Over on Pub Rants, Agent Kristin wrote an entry about a teenage girl's parent sending her a nasty e-mail, after she rejected the query. The gist of her message is: Publishing is a business, and rejections are part of the biz. She also went on to cushion the blow a bit by calling them "a badge of honor."

I said the following:

As a writer, I don't know that I'd call rejections a "badge of honor". I find it a little off-putting when writers go around bragging via link or sig that they've submitted to 100, 200, 300 (sometimes more!) agents and been rejected. That astonishes me. Think of what you're putting on the Internet, for goodness sake! I mean, would you be excited to hire an attorney who pronounced gleefully that he'd lost his last 500 cases, but he was sure his luck was about to turn? I think it's more a learning experience than a badge of honor, and the important thing is to keep improving.

That encapsulates my thoughts on the subject pretty well. I don't see any reason to hang rejections on the wall or put them on the fridge, or whatever. If the agent said something useful as applies to improving the work, then extrapolate and move on. Michele Lee wrote a response, sparked by my comment. Foremost I can't help feeling flattered that I spurred someone to blog. That's an ego stroke, even if she simply wanted to expound on the reasons why she thinks I'm wrong. I understand her points, and it's commendable that she wants to help others, but I would argue that a writer owes allegiance first and foremost to her own career, if she truly wants to succeed.

Thus, I fail to see the value of broadcasting failure. The fact of the matter is, if you make that information readily available, if you query an agent who might click the link in your sig (and Miss Snark has said she does from time to time, she even posted a warning about making sure your site / blogs are ready for primetime), what's that agent going to think when she sees you've been rejected 234 times this year? More than likely, that's going to put some prejudice in her mind; if you've been rejected 234 times this year, they don't expect you to be good, even if you are. Why create an extra hurdle to overcome? By cleaving to past rejections, you're shooting yourself in the foot, plain and simple.

Review, revise, move on. If you write because you have to, because you love it, because the people in your head will drive you crazy if you don't, it doesn't matter if 500 people reject your stuff before number 501 sees the genius. You're the only one who needs to know that and you can feel proud of your perseverance. But if you put it on your website or blog, you're just making it harder than it needs to be, and it's already an uphill battle, both ways, barefoot in the snow... you get the pic, no?

As always, this is just my opinion. That and $3.00 will get you coffee at Starbucks. What do you all think?

I'm tired of the May-December thing unless it's the woman who gets to enjoy a young, yummy boy-toy. If it's good enough for Demi Moore, it's good enough for me! So with that in mind, I want to compile a list of great books that have older women - younger men. Two immediately spring to mind. A third does as well, but I'm not putting imPossible by Danielle Steel on the list because I wouldn't recommend anyone read it unless they were stranded on a desert island with nothing but that book standing between them and a lifetime of repetitively singing The Carpenters' Greatest Hits.

Anyone But You - Jennifer Crusie
A Fine Work of Art - Shelby Reed
Sleeping Beauty - Judith Ivory
Suddenly You - Lisa Kleypas

I know there are more, and I've read more, but I'm drawing a blank on titles. Help me out!

Waiting is the hardest part of writing. And there's just so damn much of it. Let's examine the sequence of events. In September 2005, I finished The Average Girl's Guide to Getting Laid. As it was a rough draft, I proofread and got feedback from my crit partners. Then I expanded the novel because the first draft was a little lean at 66K. The revisions placed the word count around 82K, which seemed about right.

Around January 2006, I started sending out e-queries. I had made the decision not to query anyone who insisted on snail mail for a whole lot of reasons. I wanted my agent to be smart and techno-savvy. My idea of a good time involves a pitcher of Sangria and the beach, not standing in line at the post office.

The waiting begins.

Depending on how good (or how bad) your (e)query is, you may hear back within 24 hours. The quickest response I had was ten hours, a request for a partial. Next closest was twelve hours, another partial request. It may take much longer, though, depending on how hungry the agent is for new clients and submission backlog; two to three months is possible. Some agents don't respond if they aren't interested so you can take their silence for "no thank you" and tick them off your list.

I found it helpful to stagger my e-queries, sending them out in blocks of five. Obviously (and I shouldn't need to say this) each agent gets a separate, specific and personally tailored e-mail. Never CC or BCC agents the same query. The reason for querying in shifts -- even if I got five rejections, I still had hope from the e-queries I had sent recently. This went on over the course of three months. I got requests for partials, some rejections, some silence.

April 6, around midnight, I sent out the last round of queries. I hadn't been sending them out every week or anything. I sent a total of twenty five queries over the course of three months. You can work out the averages if you think it's helpful; that's not my thing. And on April 6, 10:45am, I had a request for a partial. That was the single fastest response I ever received. The darling woman asked that I e-mail her the first 50 pages. Others had asked for partials. I think I had three out at this juncture, but they insisted on using the postal service, the bloody Luddites. Of course I complied and sent them along but it's slow. This agent devoured my 50 pages and asked for the full manuscript on a two week exclusive, also via e-mail. I heard angels singing.

I sent her the full manuscript on April 13th and offered her the exclusive she wanted. Ordinarily I wouldn't recommend that, but she put a finite (and exceedingly fast!) time limit on it, so I knew she wouldn't sit on my work for eight months, ultimately to pass on it. On April 24, I heard back from her. She told me she loved the book but felt it needed a number of revisions. She told me specifically what those were, but made no guarantee of representation.

After reflection, I decided I agreed with her thoughts and committed to making the revisions in the interest of making it a better book. Ultimately that was to my benefit whether I signed with her or not (although I wanted to desperately). Maybe three days later, one of the agents who had a partial requested a full manuscript. I suspected that would happen, and I was lucky the other agents were slow-moving. But the exclusive I'd offered had expired, so I felt integrity demanded I should let the first agent know I was going to send someone else the novel while working on the revisions. I wasn't sure how that would work out; I didn't want anyone to feel like I was stirring up competition but the fact of the matter is, there was competition to sign me. What happened next made me squee in girlish glee. This is the beginning of the letter I got from Michelle, shortly thereafter.

Thanks for your e-mail. I wrote this whole mature, professional e-mail response about how of course since I didn’t offer a contract at this time you are free to send the manuscript elsewhere, etc. but the truth is by the time I got to the end of it, I was feeling some serious agent envy.

I have felt, from the very beginning, that you have a very commercially viable book here. From the title to the topic to your writing style—I think it’s a great project. I’m not exactly sure why I didn’t offer to represent you and then suggest changes, but I would like to do so at this time.

I did the dance of joy and then wrote a calm, professional response. I don't think I squee'd once. So don't be afraid of a little competition. If there's demand for your work, let the agents know it. You might stir up the desire to get you signed because if X doesn't, Y will. At least that's how it worked for me, as all the ladies on my A-list would have made a great choice. Of them, Michelle was the fastest, the friendliest and the most techno-savvy.

Then I wrote my "rejection" letters: "Thank you for your interest, but I have accepted an offer of representation elsewhere and my work is no longer available." That's, like, the best feeling in the world. I received three e-mails back from agents, who expressed regret and wished they'd been faster, another nice feeling.

I teleconferenced with Michelle on May 1 and we came to an agreement. She sent me contracts that week and I went to work on revisions. I got those to her on June 22, and she loved what I did, felt like I addressed everything and brought the book to top potential. We teleconferenced about that around mid-July, and she had me work up a cover sheet with a write-up about the book (what I'd call a sell sheet) and an author bio for me. I unearthed a photo and sent it over. She started working up a submission list. Week before last, she subbed Guide to 9 editors.

Now I'm waiting again, almost a year. And that's the timeline of this novel, thus far. Your mileage may vary, but feel free to ask questions in the comments section about my agent search, like how I drafted my query letter or how I compiled my top 25 list of agents who would've tickled me pink with an offer. I'm here to help.

Here's an excerpt from The Average Girl's Guide to Getting Laid. Let me know if it works for you.

Yesterday he’d thought she looked doable. But tonight, the girl made his mouth water. Just as he was about to tell her so, he remembered what she’d said—not wanting weak words. She wanted her man to make her feel hot.

So instead he took a step forward and reached for her, palming the back of her head. She looked surprised as he bent down and then he was kissing her, his lips rubbing warmly over hers. He knew how to make her want more, biting down on her lower lip and tugging gently, then soothing with his tongue. Teasing at her upper lip, he found she tasted of faintly berry and deeper, where she was moist and hot, of mint.

With a surprised little moan, she stretched, arms going about his neck as she parted her lips for him. His hands went to her ass, drawing her up against him. That’s right, kiss me back, he thought thickly, licking into her mouth.

He stroked his tongue against hers, and then he felt her shyly circling, deepening the kiss as she accepted him, sucking with soft rhythmic pulls. His cock jerked in response each time, and he wanted her to feel it. Shit, it had been a long time since kissing could light him up like this. Ash cupped her ass in his hands and rolled her against him as they kissed. Felt her melting, knew she wanted to hook her thigh over his hip and draw him back into the apartment. And he was all for that. God, he wanted to get inside her.

A moment later she seemed to realize how close she was to losing all control. “Oh my God,” she said, breathless. “We’re in the hall.”

He gave her a slow grin. “That we are. Pretty happy to see me, huh?”

“It’s not fair,” she complained, grabbing her bag. He glanced into her apartment and found it to be a hotel room more than anything else. “You caught me buzzing last night and I told you things you wouldn’t know otherwise. That kiss, for instance.”

“Don’t even try. You loved that kiss.” Ellie shut the door, and he waited for her to precede him, setting his hand on the small of her back.

(This awesome headline courtesy of a spam e-mail that I didn't open.)

A couple days ago, a female entrepreneur approached me about product placement. She lives in LA and she apparently found me on MySpace (which proves it actually is good for more than horny men sending me improbable suggestions regarding their anatomy and mine). Anyhow, she asked if I'd be interested in some product placement. As I write erotic romantic comedies (contemporary), she asked if a heroine might ever attend a "toy party" and if she did, perhaps we could work something out if I mentioned her company by name. Discerning Reader wrote a funny ass blog about it yesterday, so check that out too.

Anyhow, luck would have that my current WIP is set in California, and I thought it over before deciding that sex toys could conceivably (and plausibly) have a role in one of my novels. The one thing my heroines have in common is that they're horny bitches. So I said we might be able to do some business. The upshot of this is that she would offer me, among other things, novelties to give away at signings in exchange for product placement. (Yay, dildos for everyone!)

I took a look at her stock online, but I'm not going to link just yet because she's still building her site. All you ladies can rest easy; she does indeed stock the Jack Rabbit, which I understand is a favorite. The one that caught my eye, though, in sort of astonished horror is the one called THE PURPLE TITAN. That thing is huge. And purple. And huge. It seriously looks like it could kill a bitch.


I am guessing at this mythical toy party scene I have yet to write, the ladies will be gazing with awe and terror at its purple-helmeted majesty. And giggling. Don't forget the giggling. Rest easy, my entrepreneurial associate also has models in less frightening proportions.

Down with long posts!

I'm not going to make you all cross-eyed today, trying to read my rants, but I do want your help. Over on Smart Bitches, I said the following:

I have to admit, I have a real weakness for cross-dressing heroine stories. (I know!) But it just cracks me up to get into the hero’s PoV where he’s freaking out and fretting over his feelings for his young ("male") ward, assistant, secretary, cabin boy...bring it all on; I find that shit hilarious.

Turns out a lot of ladies feel the same way. People then started listing all the books I need to read where the heroine starts out in man-drag, and I am wondering what gems I've missed. So I decided to compile the ultimate TBR list. Help me out, please! List your picks in the comments and I'll assemble it here as our go-to resource for when we're jonesing for pussy-pretending-to-have-a-penis.

PS - I saw She's the Man, twice. (I know!)

The definitive cross-dressing heroine list (a WIP)

From This Moment On - Lynn Kurland
The Switch - Lynsay Sands
Seize the Fire - Laura Kinsale
The Prince of Midnight - Laura Kinsale
The Dream Hunter - Laura Kinsale
Almost a Gentleman - Pam Rosenthal
Seduced - Virginia Henley
12th Night - Will Shakespeare
As You Like It - Will Shakespeare
My Lady Notorious - Jo Beverley
Lady of the Knight - Jackie Ivie
The Corinthian - Georgette Heyer
The Beekeeper's Apprentice - Laurie R. King
Ashes in the Wind - Kathleen Woodiwiss
Shield of Three Lions - Pamela Kaufman

Never knew there was a place where writers congregate to cry about rejections.

I understand the need to vent, but I was gobsmacked, and here's why. That site doesn't dispel any of the copious misconceptions or glorious conceits that lead to rejections. Here's a sampling of things writers said about agents and/or publishing, once they received the relatively standard, "I just wasn't excited enough about this to make an offer at this time."

1. "Why can't the agent just take a chance on my work?"
   
2. "How on earth can't any one of the novels I pitched be of interest to the mind of a leading agent?"
   
3. "They enjoyed reading my idea? Four years working on my first novel, and it's reduced to an idea?"
   
4. "I thought him incompetent, and I told him precisely why in my response to his letter. I never heard back."
   
5. "I am getting the distinct feeling that there are no agents who actually would like to represent an author."
   
6. "I can't believe they (sent a form letter, used a rubber stamp to say no thanks, scrawled no thanks on my own query letter, gave feedback, didn't give feedback...)"
   
7. "She 'didn't love it enough.' I think that it's hard for someone to love a project based solely on the first three chapters. There are plenty of books that had dull first chapters but redeemed themselves in the end."
   
8. "This agent seems to have become hardened to the fact that we writers pour our souls into our work. She has gotten so many queries that she has forgotten that it is an HONOR to read our work."

Wow, those are some doozies. But here we go.

1)The reason the agent can't just 'take a chance' on your work is because he or she needs to feel passionately about your writing. Even when they do adore a project, every agent is essentially gambling that they can persuade an editor to love it too. Sometimes it's not the writing itself as much as the subject matter. Maybe you've written a cozy mystery when people are tired of reading about sleuthing spinsters with a cat. And if an agent feels indifferent or only mild interest, then that will communicate itself to the editors and your project won't sell. The point isn't landing the agent; it's signing material he or she can sell. Otherwise, the agent doesn't eat and you start feeling like the working relationship is doomed, which leads to terminating a contract and then you're right back where you started. As a writer, your job is to hone your craft until people cannot resist your work. If they can, then you're not done polishing and perfecting. It really is that simple. I know we hate to admit that our stuff may not be ready for primetime, but face it, that is sometimes the case. It's not them; it's you.

2)Let's start where this writer went wrong. He pitched a bunch of novels in the same letter? Mind you, it's okay to mention you've written other things, but do not pitch them or describe like 20 books in one query. That's a smorgasbord approach to querying, and it seldom works. It's like those buffet restaurants that offer a ton of choices and mass quantity, but none of it is very good. That will often color an agent's perception of you as well. If a writer has 25 novels ready for representation, why hasn't someone signed him? Answer: his books aren't very good.

3)Idea is only a word. This writer is choosing to feel wounded and trivialized, based on someone else's verbiage. What does that say about him? Well, to me, it says he's remarkably thin-skinned. He's the writer who is going to resist edits tooth and nail, and argue with people over their constructively intended criticisms. There are just too many people trying to publish who are even-tempered and who take differing opinions with an open mind and a willingness to do whatever it takes to write the best book. Plus, this writer has admitted it took four years to finish something. That's sluggard / slacker production, another black mark.

4)This guy needs to be whacked with the clue stick. Just because an agent doesn't like your stuff, it doesn't make him incompetent. Maybe you really do suck. If you're serious about writing, you'll persist and improve until you don't anymore. The biggest disservice writers do themselves is believing they're better than they are and showing off substandard work. Join a crit group. Believe what people tell you.

5)An agent doesn't spend too much time looking for new clients because that would be a disservice to the ones whose careers he's supposed to be shepherding. However, that doesn't say he wouldn't be excited to unearth something fantastic. Read Rachel Vater's blog and see how gleeful she is to have signed Caitlin Kittredge. My agent said the following in an e-mail after I accepted her offer: "I am so excited to be working with you!" If your work is ready, you will find an agent. Just because the agent doesn't want to rep you, it doesn't mean he doesn't want new clients.

6)Damn. Writers will complain about any fucking thing. The variety of complaints in rejection letters just shows that an agent can't win, regardless of what course he takes. Bottom line is, rejections suck; stop expecting to like it. Just suck it up and write better. Agents are in no fashion obligated to critique your work, though. Expecting them to just shows you're an amateur. But if they do offer constructive comments, don't get mad and say they don't know what they're talking about. If you really think that, why'd you query them in the first place?

7)This boggles my mind. You seem to be mounting a defense of your boring first chapters by saying 'other published books have been boring but they got better!' Okay, well, maybe that's true, but you're not Danielle Steel. When you are, you can get away with shit like that. Right now, you're nobody, and you can't, and you have to try ten times harder. Sorry.

8)An honor? Oh no, no, no, missy, you did not just say that. An honor, she says. It is not an honor for them to read your 'labor of love' (vomit). And yes, when I was playing at being ready for the bigtime at maybe 21 years of age, I used that cliche in a query letter. I survived it. Reading the slush pile is their job, sometimes delegated to an assistant or an intern. Maybe they find a gem in there; maybe it's yours. And if they sign you, it's not an honor either. It's fantastic news and it's exciting, but it's not an honor. You're not being awarded a purple heart. At that point, they are saying, "Hey, I like how you string words together / tell a story and I think I can sell this. Furthermore, I don't believe you're a needy diva who is going to make my life a living hell." That's pretty much the extent of it. And by signing, you are saying, in turn, "I think you're a honest person who knows the business, believes in my ability to string words together, and knows how best to guide my career." No other assumptions are or should be implied.

This has turned into a really long post, but let me summarize in this fashion. It's not us vs them, and it's not an adversarial relationship. If you can't get an agent, it's because the project and/or your writing ability isn't up to spec. If you really want it, keep working. Don't look for shortcuts, don't become bitter, and don't hold up your rejections in some perverse glee as proof that the publishing industry is corrupt.

Just fucking write and stop whining.

Superwench over on Rachel Vater's blog asked me to teach her my secret to getting requests for partials.

Like I told her on Ms. Vater's blog, I don't know that I'm so good at queries. More like, I'm lucky in that my take on romance is in demand right now. Editors want more explicit novels; sexy paranormals are hot also, but I can't write those. I am so over vampires, and as for werewolves, meh. I could probably do something with witches and ghosts. Maybe if I run out of ideas for straight contemps, I'll give it a shot. I have like four book concepts plotted and ready to write, though, so it'll be a while, and the paranormal rush might be over by then.

I write steamy romantic comedies, and there aren't a lot of authors doing exactly that, as it can be hard to shift from sizzle to giggle. But I don't see why erotic romance has to be ultra-serious. Sex is fun and funny -- consider the faces people make.

At this point, you're probably thinking, you slut, what're you doing hanging around Rachel Vater's blog? Don't you love Michelle anymore?

Yes, of course, I love Michelle, I do, I swear! But even though we're committed, there's no harm in looking, is there? I didn't mean to imply Rachel is prettier or smarter or has bigger hair. (That was a mark of ultra-coolness in 1983). Anyhow. The reason I read other agents' blogs is because I feel guilty just surfing the 'net when I'm supposed to be writing. If I am reading about writing, then there's less slacker guilt to assuage with cheese doodles. Less cheese doodles are good because my ass is going to need its own zipcode one of these days.

All clear? Good. On to the winning query!

Dear [Agent Name]

The first novel I'd like you to consider, THE AVERAGE GIRL'S GUIDE TO GETTING LAID is hot, funny, modern, and thoroughly tender: an interracial romance that breaks down boundaries. It's a title targeted for markets like the new SPICE line, or chickliterotica, as I think of it. Berkeley Heat might also be a good possibility, and another publishing contact advised me to pitch the book to Kate Seaver, but I would really prefer someone else to handle that for me.

At 33, Ellie Campbell is a small-town woman with a vanilla sex life at the best of times. Of course she has friends and a moderately successful career as a travel writer, but in terms of personal excitement, her own grandmother gets wilder at Saturday night bingo. She's come to accept that she isn't the type of woman to inspire passion, and that she'll probably never have an orgasm outside of masturbation. The few lovers she's taken always leave her vaguely disappointed and wishing she'd used a vibrator instead.

But all that changes when a drunken dare results in a risque proposal, something nobody believes Ellie can pull off--an indispensable guide for the new millennium, teaching the average woman how to seek and experience pleasure just as men do.

I've been writing all my life and received a degree in Literature. About five years ago, I started making sales, and I currently live as an expatriate in sunny Mexico. At this point, I have a body of work in need of expert representation, so I'll give you an overview. I have two historical romance novels, previously published, but all rights have reverted to me. Both historical romance novels garnered four star reviews from such sources as Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur.

Additionally, I have a science fiction romance novel in progress; working title is FALLING. I am interested in cultivating a professional relationship with an agent who will ultimately sell all five novels, and any romance I pen thereafter, including any science fiction or paranormal romances. If you should need to contact me via telephone, my number is [phone number]. Thanks for your time and attention, [agent name], and I look forward to hearing whether you have an interest in seeing more of my work.


Best Regards,

So that's it. I think I broke some rules talking about other books, but I wanted the agents to know that I've got other junk in my trunk, most of it with lots of hot, hide-the-sausage action and kung fu grip.

Offhand, I think the number one query letter mistake is making them too fucking long. You don't need to sum up the plot, point by point. You need a hook, short and sweet. And put some bounce in it; don't be afraid to show your writing style. That's kind of the point. Of course, I could be talking out my ass, and your mileage may vary.

Hope this helps someone. Til next time, I remain,

A banana without pyjamas.

PS - It's very important that you replace [agent name] with an actual name, spelled correctly. You get bonus points for doing it right more than once, and when they sign you, you get tickets for rides at Coney Island. And a monkey. (Haven't you always wanted a monkey?)

Today I got an e-mail from Keith Clayton at Random House. A couple months back, I requested an unencrypted copy of the pdf of my fantasy novel, Stone Maiden. My contract expired in June and I'd never received a copy of the novel in final edited form.

I'm thrilled about this, as it's going to save me a lot of work. I don't think Stone Maiden has nearly realized its potential because it never came out in print. I have quite a backlist that's out of print now, and I think there may come a day when those books are in demand.

For now, though, I must apply myself to my current WIP, Your Alibi. Per my agent, the fabulous Michelle Wolfson of Artists and Artisans, I need to make my mark in sexy, romantic comedy before I am permitted to diversify. That means three finished titles. Though I've always suffered genre ADD (witness the fact that I finished my first rom-com, currently on submission with greats like Cindy Hwang, Erika Tsang, and Hilary Sares, and then proceeded to write a kick-ass SFR), I am sure I can do this!

Of course I can. Your Alibi is a kick-ass rom-com with hot sex, penguins, and a big Samoan in a Polynesian skirt. What else could you want in a book?

12,261 / 90,000 (13.6%)

I'll keep you posted on my progress.

She really does.

But let's back up a bit.

I got an e-mail from her last week. Don't think I will ever be cool enough to read this with equanimity:

I was just talking about you a couple of hours ago at lunch with an editor. I think she'd be perfect for Guide and she was saying submissions are really slow right now and she'd love to take a look. Sometimes it can't hurt to let 1 or 2 editors take an early look and then maybe they'll make a pre-emptive offer (which we are under no obligation to take but gives us a strong position for getting others to read quickly).

Talking. About me. To an editor. Over lunch. Because, yeah, I'm that interesting. As for being 'under no obligation to take an offer', I am slackjawed. Riiight, we wouldn't want to take a lower offer when we could drive it up, maybe have an auction or get me a multi-book deal. Here I was just worried about selling in the first place.

So I was still reeling over that when another e-mail came today. This is the beginning:

I ended up starting the submission of Guide this week. After reviewing my projects and thinking more about strategy and speaking with some editors, my feeling was that they were hungry for some August submissions and this has the feel of a summer read. It’s currently out with 9 editors.

She then provided the list, and damn, but it reads like Who's Who of steamy romance novels. In closing, she tells me, "I think this is an exciting development..."

Uh. Yeah. Talent for understatement. I'll be in the corner, squeeing myself to sleep.

Hold on, folks. This is gonna be a smutty, sexed up blog. Now don't go shoving your hands down your pants just yet, but do read on.

I've been hanging around this awesome site lately. It's called Smart Bitches, and that's no joke. If I were a lesbian, I'd totally be gayin' it up on these ladies because they are smart and funny and utterly irreverent. I've never found a writer / reader forum that I heart more. But enough fangirl gushing.

Gushing. Now there's a nice segue if ever I wrote one. Turns out that Ms. Sarah wrote a blog entry called Le Petit Mort: Describing the Big Moment and it was funny as hell. In it, she invited us Smart Bitches to talk about the worst orgasms we've ever read.

Somewhere in the course of this discussion, I came up with the idea to start a list of orgasm / sex description no-nos so that we intrepid smut peddlers could do a search once our book is done, just to make sure nothing slipped through, like, say, if we were writing our sex scene with a 104 fever caused by the infected bite of an angry spider monkey escaped from a street performer, who used to be a man, but paid for the sex change by exploiting the cuteness of said spider monkey without ever letting the poor primate enjoy the charms of the hottie rhesus down the street, which explains why he was mad enough to bite a sexy-ass writer. Hey, it could happen.

So I started the list and Ms. Nora Roberts herself added the following:

I shouldn't. I should have more restraint. But the urge to add to this list:

1)creamy
2) hoo-hoo
3) any euphemism like "velvet manhood" or "pulsing honeypot"

is too strong for my meager will.

mossy grotto
purple-helmeted warrior
winking nipples
boiling love juice (serious ouch)
And any reference to dripping

Holy crap. Nora Roberts added to my no-no list. I reckon that's like being a Catholic standing outside the Vatican, just hoping for a glimpse of his Holiness, and having the Pope anoint your forehead with holy water. In this case, though, it's more like I've been blessed with (not boiling) love juice. Arise, my children. Fornicate!

And there's another nice segue. I'm going to run a workshop on this one day, but for now, you'll have to make do with the synopsis. You'd have to read all the comments to see how we got to that point in the conversation (but it's worth it). Anyhow, a Smart Bitch named Amy E. objected to the use of the word "delicious" in reference to come.

Don't worry, I'm here to help you out with the art of the tastier orgasm. If you manage your man's diet, it makes a huge difference. If he wants you to swallow, he should go heavy on fruits. Pineapple, papaya, cranberry, melons, mangos, apples, and grapes all improve the taste of sperm because they're high in sugar, which offsets the bitterness. Parsley, wheatgrass and celery are good for improving the flavor of ejaculate. So are cinnamon, cardamon, and peppermint. Above all, he should avoid garlic, onion, curry, dark beer, cabbage, caulifower, broccoli, tobacco, and coffee. He should also drink lots of water and go light on red meat.

If he's willing, you'll find that he tastes a lot better. Then again, I've only been with one man who wanted me to like his stuff bad enough to do all that. We actually did experiment to see whether it works, and it does. Although it'll never taste like whipped cream, you'd be surprised at how good it can be. You should also keep in mind that whatever he eats will be flavoring his ejaculate between 12-24 hours later. He can have the "yucky come" foods if he wants, but it'll take that long to work its way out again.

PS - This also applies to the ladies, more or less, if you want a tastier pussy. I went on this diet, not to lose my big fat ass, but to see if it works as well for women, and damn, but it does. He couldn't keep his face out of there. Best part is, apart from the nth degree increase in oral sex, when he says you have the sweetest pussy in the world, it might be pretty close to true.