Haters Gonna Post
I debated writing this blog... because on the one hand, I don't want to give energy to people who have the manners of sea slugs, but on the other, I want to get this out of my head and share what's on my mind.
You've read my books. You know I don't hold back.
What sparked the words you're reading today was a comment on a social media site, and as I write this, it already sounds silly. It's like something you'd pull your BFF over to whisper about in high school. Except it wasn't. It was mean-spirited and tactless. I'm not going to give this person credit, nor am I going to pay homage to the accusations, but just know:
a) it was personal
b) it wasn't meant to be critical, but meant to harm
So... I have to share something.
I love people. I love my readers! I want to be available and open and honest. I write my books in much the same way. When I sit down and put my fingers on the keyboard, I make a decision not to censor. In lots of ways.
This has earned me some interesting flack recently. Side note: Asher Knight is a rock star and has a flair for the F-bomb. We all know this, yes? Good. Let's move on.
As a person who loves my readers and loves social media, lately things have been... weird. The more visibility my books have received, the more of a public figure I have become. When you start out in your toddling newbie career, there are a few hundred of you knocking around on the interwebs together and everyone is really cordial. "Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question?" and "I just wanted to say I loved your book! Keep writing!"
Nice stuff. It's like... okay, let me give you a visual...
You're throw a party and twenty people show up. You don't know all of them, but they're in your kitchen, living room. Friends of friends, that kind of thing. They're friendly and well-behaved, because that's what you do when you encounter the host of the party face-to-face. You behave yourself and use your manners.
But then... sometime around midnight, the party changes. People come pouring in and now they're in the yard and along the street and hanging out of your maple tree. And then out of the hundreds of people at your party, one of them climbs on someone else's shoulders and shouts: YOU SUCK!
So that's sort of, kind of what happened. Someone had the need to stand up and tell me all sorts of degrading things about my books and who I am as a person. Did it hurt? Sure. Was it ridiculous? Absolutely. I'd argue it wasn't even worth the time I worried about one person who clearly picked up the wrong book.
Spoiler: There is premarital sex in A Bad Boy for Christmas. (And it's AWESOME.)
After doing my best to shake it off, I came to the realization that when you're a public figure, you are able to receive the glorious praise and cheers and smiles and hugs and compliments... but you're out there for the people who want to hurt you, too.
It's enough to make you want to crawl under the covers, and I'm *not* the crawl-under-the-covers type. I want to be available and interact with you guys, I do. But yikes... some people desperately need a place to empty their cold, black hearts.
I guess I was convenient today. And I guess that's to be expected.
My assistant and I are going to keep our eyes open for haters and promptly remove them. No sense in you guys having to endure that sort of rubbish, is there? After all, it's my party at my house, and I only invited the cool people.