Today we have author Ember Leigh visiting. Welcome!
What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck. In addition to romance novels, Ember also writes travel memoirs and occasionally updates a couple of blogs. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, hops around the world, and eats lots of vegetables.
Today Ember Leigh will be talking about the best piece of writing advice she ever received and how it helped her.
* At the risk of sounding like a complete dolt, the best piece of advice I ever received about writing was, “Just write.”
* It sounds so painfully obvious—the type of adage that makes you roll your eyes or whisper behind people’s backs.
* I was born a writer. I’ve known since age nine that I was an author, and truly it has been the only sustaining, burbling passion that simmers in my depths. Think of the sulfur springs in Yellowstone. It’s like that. Maybe without the pungent smell.
* Knowing my passion throughout life, whenever I’d encounter this advice it would make me scoff. “Of course, writers write. What does this even mean?”
* But by age nineteen I had entirely stopped writing. In fact, all I had to go on during my adult years was this lingering sensation that “I was a writer”, like the memory of a dream I’d had long, long ago. Somewhere, deep down, that was still the truth that resonated with me.
* Except, I wasn’t writing.
* A non-writing writer, which isn’t technically possible.
* As the years whiled on, I became more and more frustrated with my lack of progress. Couldn’t I just be PUBLISHED already? I felt time slipping away, alongside a desperate urge to accomplish something with my writing instead of just letting it wither and die. I had three romance novels written, in various stages of completion, that I desperately wanted to revise and send out into the world. I had to rearrange my work schedule to do this—so I could feel emotionally and mentally ready to write, instead of exhausted all the time by the 70-hour work weeks.
* Once my schedule gave me the freedom to write with some regularity, I realized…I couldn’t. It wasn’t as easy as when I was sixteen staying up until the wee hours, scribbling furiously onto notebook paper. Now, it required some unachievable cocktail of inspiration and discipline.
* I had all the excuses in the book: I wasn’t good anymore, I have nothing to write about, if I finish this first novel my ideas will dry up, what is the point of it even?
* I crippled myself with the need for my first novel to be perfect. And I was also scared that once I finished revising these first three original novels, I would never have another idea ever again. So I was hesitant to write too much, if that makes any sense at all.
* When my first novel came out, I was very proud, as all first-time novel mothers are. I set to work on revising the second novel I had written from my earlier years, and got that one ready to publish. And then when that one got picked up, I got to work on the third.
* And it was around this time that something very peculiar happened.
* Ideas started bombarding me from all angles.
* Entirely new ideas that weren’t novels I had started when I was 18. Good lord, it felt like a miracle! And it was also around this time that I looked back at my first published novel from just a couple years prior and realized OH MY GOD. THIS KIND OF SUCKS.
* I mean this in the nicest self-deprecating way possible. Because what happened is that I had grown as a writer. In all the writing and revising over the past few years, the incredible happened: I WAS GETTING BETTER.
* What I didn’t realize when I was younger was that writing begets writing.
* Once my output rate started picking up, people around me noticed. Cue the appreciative, jealous sighs. Friends who had always wanted to write novels would ask: “how do you write so much? How do you even finish a novel? I always sit down and second-guess it.”
* We already know what I told them: JUST WRITE.
* Just do it, because that’s the only way to do it. You have to write through the confusion, the discomfort, the uncertainty, the lack of ideas. To write more, you have to WRITE MORE. And in the process, you will subtly refine your craft.
* It’s not that you write one book and that is your forever pinnacle of craft. Unless maybe you spend a decade on a literary novel, of course. But generally, the only way to get better, to understand what you’re doing, is to keep doing it and learn along the way. You don’t show up to the blank page knowing everything already.
* That first novel out the gate isn’t the end. Rather, it’s just the beginning.
* You just gotta keep writing.
A look into…
~ Blurb ~
* Rose Delaney is a baby bounty hunter, rescuing children from fugitive ex-spouses. All she wants is to return a recovered child to its mother and get back to her regimented solitary life. But when a snow storm leaves her and baby Emmy stranded, Rose has no choice but to lean on the ruggedly handsome rescuer, who thinks the baby is hers. Holed up in their mountain resort-under-construction and unable to contact Emmy’s mother, Rose’s priority is hitting the road—even if Garrett’s erotic touch entices her to ride out the storm.
* Construction boss Garrett Galo loves his job, but he never imagined a perk like being snowbound during a whiteout with the sassy brunette he just rear-ended. He’s learned to stay away from women who want a family, especially when they come with a kid in tow. When passionate nighttime encounters flare between them, Garrett begins to question what he’d risk to keep Rose.
* This isn’t the time or the place for romance—but will five days on a mountain make these loners reconsider giving in to love?
~ Excerpt ~
* She eyed him as she swam near him but not any closer than an arm’s length away. His cock hardened into a full-blown erection, and hiding it was no longer an option. As the water sloshed around him, he wondered if she’d spotted it yet— after all, the pool was chlorinated, crystal clear, and the woman had hawk eyes. She’d like what he had to offer, too.
* An idea occurred to him. “Do you know how to dive?”
* She shook her head, never ripping her eyes from him. “Want a quick lesson?” She nodded.
* “Come here, then.” He held out his arms, absolutely ready to put his hands all over her naked body for an impromptu diving lesson that would teach her nearly nothing.
* Rose swam closer, hesitant. “But don’t we have to get out of the pool first?”
* “Yes, but first there’s a very important step.” Fuck it. Time to go for the gold.
* She swam up to him and touched the bottom, her breasts peeking out of the water as she faced him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, nearly dizzy from the heavy hand of lust. Her tight nipples grazed his chest as she stood before him.
* “First step,” he said, droplets of water falling from his hair onto his arm, “is to loosen up.”
Thank you for joining us here today, Ember Leigh! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.
ANNOUNCEMENT! Ember Leigh will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour! So be sure to leave a comment AND use this RAFFLECOPTER LINK to enter the drawing. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!