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Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Why I Write....Err, Publish.

The obvious answer is: I don't have a choice.

I am controlled by some sort of external magic which forces me to grind pen to paper...err, finger to keyboard for -  h o u r s  - on end. I am a slave to the story, a junkie for plot twists, got a desperate girl or a beautiful asshole you equally love & hate - and I am so fucking there! Sign me up! Take my number.

I'll be your medium!
*begging on knees*
Please, Ms. Hot Chic choose me! Mr. Insane Killer, I am the writer for your tale of woe! Yes, you were repressed as a child I got it!
It's all okay though because you will be fucking gorgeous and women will love you anyway!
*eyes bug out*

Ok. Seriously. Why do I write?
Because I have to. *grins*

I have been writing almost as long as I have been talking. It started with poetry and flourished from there as seems common with my type. Basic answers you may have yourself or know a thousand friends that say the same thing.

The REAL question is why publish?
Long story short in three words, I almost died.
This started a chain of events which kind of led to a fuck-it-I-do-not-care attitude. They don't like me, I don't care. The goal was simply - write a fucking book. Start with Once Uponta...and get to The End. Become a FINISHER.

And thus, that became the mountain. Finish the damn novel. Not 100k in and not done (yes, I have several....) Not a beginning and an end, but follow the thing through. That I believe is the most difficult part. At least it was for me. Believing in the process enough to know and trust that I could get to the finish line.

So it began July 5, 2014. I would write the New Adult-Contemporary-Romance-Suspense-Erotica book I wanted to read. Fuck it if THAT ain't a genre. I don't care about that right now. Actually, I still don't. I realized early on that I could not wedge myself into the box of one genre, so I gave that up pre-starting the climb up the Finish It Mtn.

So...I write. First on my old huge Dell laptop. Then on a little RT machine. Then on a Surface Pro-3 (which I still use). And now on a MacBook Air. Keep in mind I have all those scraps of paper, journals, receipts, stubs, anytime I had an idea I wrote it down. I have a mess of paper. And by September 27, 2014, I had the skeleton of Juliet. Of course, I didn't know she was a skeleton, it was a year later before I realized I had another mountain on top of the Finish moutain called Edit Me Fool.

Yes, I am old school. I printed that damn thing like a trophy.

And then, I attempted to edit. Ok, now. Here is where things get very bad on Mt. Edit. No one tells you that Mt. Edit is like a hundred times as large as Mt. Finish. And that you will regurgitate that shit by the end of it, so for fuck's sake, love it. Love that story. And I did.

So, I kept writing in the Juliet world and hit the publish button three times.

But after driving myself crazy for a year, knowing that my beloved baby was not what I had dreamed the choice became quite clear at the plateau I reached on Mt. Edit: Quit or Hire. By chance, a lovely editor sent me a friend request (...enter magical twist of fate here...) and the rest has been history. I gave Mizdee the current WIP - Tea for Two and decided I liked our flow so much that we would go back to the lands of that box because I believed in Juliet when few did.

  • Break the bones.
  • Reset them right.
  • Build her muscle. 
  • Give her skin...and makeup and loads of glorious hair.
  • And make that bitch whole for the first time ever.

And now, Juliet is getting dressed, going to the ball and waiting for readers to ask her to dance.
(The re-release of Juliet and The Initiation are both available now.)

The curious part is how close my own journey of growth followed that of Juliet. And so the other day as we - me and the Mizdee - are talking (not uncommon) and she has this epiphany that my words have impacted her and...bam...suddenly, I realize that sitting atop the now conquered Mt. Fuckin Edit is the strange world of Mt. Marketing, for which I am trying to be social.

But fuck is it hard.

Let's back up though to that little bit - my words made a difference, making someone feel. And that is ultimately why I write - to entertain and enrich, perhaps providing some thought-provoking material. My art exists to be interpreted by each individual in their own way. There is no right or wrong opinion. Some may hate it, some may love it. I will write what I want to read, and if you enjoy it...I personally invite you to join me on the journey of my words.

And speaking of words, I love them, playing and rearranging them to elicit a reaction. I have a particular penchant for "dying" words. Words like atramentous. If by chance, I happen to hit a phrase wrong or you have a lovely little tidbit of a word, please let me know.

Sure, I could give you some perfect little churchgoing-type picture and the Ms Samuels lives in a Farmhouse with a menagerie of crew and animals....but that's not what you really want.

You want dirt between my toes.
You want the grit under my nails.
You want to know about me, Sal, Juliet.
The truth behind the story.

And how do I know this?
Because I am a reader, too.
So, I am giving that for better or worse. I will never sugarcoat any of my social.
Some days it may not be pretty, but I promise, it will be real.

I owe a VAST & GREAT amount of thanks & love to the Crew @ the farmhouse, to Mizdee at Nerdy Girl Editing & Co., to Giselle at xpresso book tours, and J.A. Huss for blogging about Giselle. And the lovely Brit, Evelyn (Summer's Eve and Quill & Ink Book Tours), for telling me at 3:30 am to "go to bed Missy."

And that is how Juliet technically came to be.
I will give more insights into the actual story and scenes in the near future.

Be good to each other.
With much much LOVE,


Juliet by Kailee Reese Samuels


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