by Ashley Lister

As most people reading my posts here are ‘well aware’ (translate = sick to death of hearing) I’m currently enjoying an adventure in self-publishing.

One of the steepest learning curves I’m currently hurtling along (I can’t remember if I’m supposed to go up a learning curve or down that damned thing) is the whole notion of publicity and marketing. I’m a shy and retiring person by nature and don’t like to brag about any of the 50+ novels I’ve published or the 100+ short stories, or my PhD, or the medals I’ve received for participating in 10K fun runs, or the success of my poetry or my charity work…

However, being a shy and retiring person means I’m ill-equipped for the pressures of trying to promote and market my work. Which is why I’m currently hoping to cultivate publicity by killing a reader.

I can imagine now that some of you are thinking this is a little extreme, and potentially harmful to the ends I want to achieve. To start with, killing readers is a sure fire way of stopping them from purchasing future books, which means it’s a short-sighted plan. Also, there are legal ramifications to killing people which are seldom positive. And there’s also the negative word of mouth such a campaign can cause: “I wouldn’t buy one of his books. I had a friend who bought one of his books and he went and killed him/her.”

Nevertheless, this is what I’m currently planning to do.

Obviously the murder won’t be an actual murder. My intention, as it’s a horror novella I’m currently working on, is to give one lucky reader the opportunity to lend their name to a character who is going to be brutally murdered in the story. There are a handful of legal terms and conditions that I’ve included by way of a disclaimer (all of which can be seen on my website) and I mention this here because it’s been such a fun promotional idea.

I’ve had dozens of emails from readers (and potential readers) asking me to kill them. I’m able to tell people that I’m running a competition that won’t have a winner: it will have a victim. In the past I’ve done book promotions, blog tours and giveaways but none of it has had the daring feel of promising to kill a reader.

In the comments box below, if there’s a competition you’d love to see an author running, let me know and I’ll see if I can find a way to use that in future. And, if you want to run the risk of having me kill you, why not drop me an email so I can put your name in the draw?

 by Ashley Lister

I came across this woman in a car park, crying because she’d just lost £2,000 of savings that she was going to use for a family holiday. I tried to console her, and by way of comfort, I gave her £100. I don’t normally do that kind of thing but I’d just found a purse full of money so I could easily afford it.

I reiterate this joke as a forerunner to saying I don’t consider myself to be an ethical person.

Admittedly, if I found money, I’d like to hope I would turn it over to the appropriate authorities and make sure it was returned to its rightful owner. But the truth is I’m a writer, and we don’t come across money very often, so it’s not a certainty that I’d do the right thing.

However, this lack of personal ethics only stretches as far as financial windfalls. In every most other areas of life, I try to uphold high standards of ethics. Which is why, when I came across the above question, I thought I would share my thoughts on my ethical approach to writing about historical figures.

A long time ago, way back in the early noughties, Mitzi Szereto put out a CFS (call for submissions) for short stories that eventually became the book Wicked: Erotic Tales of Legendary Lovers. The idea was to produce erotic fantasies featuring real life figures from history. I read the requirements for the anthology and, whilst a great part of me wanted to contribute, I had some ethical reservations.

Is it acceptable to create an erotic fantasy story based on a real-life person? Well, since Mitzi was asking for such stories, and I know she’s a decent person, I didn’t doubt it was acceptable. But I felt a personal twinge of unease at the thought of writing about the intimate life of a famous figure.

It’s always been a personal mantra to never write erotic content that goes outside my comfort zone. I know this is not something that troubles many other writers. Chuck Tingle’s most recent release, My Macaroni And Cheese Is A Lesbian Also She Is My Lawyer, is undoubtedly as well written and entertaining as the rest of his opus. But Tingle is clearly comfortable writing about the intimate sex life of lesbian macaroni-and-cheese lawyers, whilst it’s something I don’t write because I fear, if I try, I’ll likely get it wrong.

I’m aware that, as writers, we should push boundaries and experiment in lots of different ways. But I was (and still am) reluctant to write about aspects of sex and sexuality about which I’m personally ignorant. And when it comes to the sex life of most celebrities and historical figures, my ignorance is legendary.

Ordinarily I would have thought it best to not submit to Mitzi’s anthology but I wanted to contribute because the idea was genuinely intriguing. And it was whilst I was discounting likely subjects for my story (Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen, Arch

duke Ferdinand) that I realised I would be better placed writing about a celebrity who had already published intimate details of his or her love life.
Which is why I wrote about the Marquis de Sade. I had fun with the idea and made the Marquis a political writer who is urged to spice up the content of his pamphlets with racy scenes. The person doing the urging, an anachronistic editor with a focus on the market, takes the lead in the story and, I was delighted when the story was accepted under my pseudonym Lisette Ashton.

All of which is my way of saying, in response to the question, ‘What are the ethics of writing about historical figures?’

1. Don’t break the law.
2. Don’t write outside your personal comfort zone.
3. Have fun with what you create.

by Ashley Lister

As I may have mentioned, I’ve been investigating the benefits of self-publishing. I’ve currently got three of my erotic titles for sale on Amazon (The BloodLust Chronicles, Faith; The BloodLust Chronicles Hope; The BloodLust Chronicles Charity). These are titles that were previously published by a small UK publisher but rights have since reverted to me. I’ve also published a book of my (very) rude poetry: Old People Sex and other highly offensive poems.

I’ll say now it’s an exciting experience. I’m getting to investigate aspects of publishing I had never previously had to consider. Cover design, formatting, layout etc are all areas of which I was vaguely aware. However, I’d never had the need or the motivation to trouble myself with such details.

Now I’m keen to hone my skills in all of these areas and more, and I wanted to share some of my observations.

One of the key areas that I think is of greatest importance is sales. If I’m not selling books then I’m not seeing profit. And, whilst I altruistically want to make the world a better place with the gift of my writing, I also like to eat every now and again and pay bills.

So far, I think the key to successful sales is a case of throwing promotional material to the broadest audiences possible and hoping some of it sticks. I appreciate this lacks the finesse of discussing algorithms and complex marketing strategies. But I also suspect algorithms and complex marketing strategies are simply synonyms for the approach of throwing promotional material to the broadest audiences and hoping some of that shit sticks.

There are other aspects that need to be addressed before reaching this stage. The product being sold needs to be of the highest standard. It needs to conform to customer expectations and it needs to be available in a quality format that merits the price being asked. There are also aspects of marketing that need to be considered to take full advantage of increased and I’ll probably discuss these details in future blog posts. But, today, I’m focussing on a single aspect of sales.

Volume of traffic is vital to success. On a simple mathematical level, if 2% of people visiting my website make a purchase, I am going to make more from 1,000 visitors than I would see from 100 visitors. Even if the volume of traffic forces my conversion percentage to fall by half, I’m still seeing more profit from 1,000 visitors at 1% than I would have gained from 100 visitors at 2%.

There are ways to draw more visitors, some of which are as simple as sharing a link in the middle of a blog post: www.ashleylister.com. Over the next few months, I’m hoping to share my thoughts as I learn more about the fascinating world of self-publishing.

By Ashley Lister

There should be a warning for everyone who is considering writing erotica that, at some point in your writing career, you’re going to be asked this question. “Have you done all those things?”

This question doesn’t get pitched at authors in any other genre of fiction. No one is asking horror authors, “Have you ever haunted a house?” or “Were there a lot of killer clowns living in the sewers where you grew up?” No one is asking romance writers “Did you live happily ever after, after forming a relationship with a man who you didn’t really like when you first met him?” No one asks crime writers “Have you ever killed someone? Or solved a murder? Or been killed?”

And yet, write erotica, and it’s the first question you get asked. “Have you done all those things?”

And how am I supposed to respond? If I say “NO,” it gives the impression that I’m writing from a place of prudish ignorance and inexperience, and no one wants to read books written by the ignorant. If I say “YES,” it sounds like I’m depraved man-slut eager to embroil myself in any carnal relationship available. A resounding “YES” might make me seem like an authority in the subject matter of the genre but it also makes me seem like a person with somewhat questionable morals.

  Worse, if I answer honestly and say, “I thoroughly research every aspect of my writing,” that sounds like I’m a prudish man-slut: I have done all those depraved things, but I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve done them. In truth this means, whatever it is I haven’t done, I learn about through videos and conversations with more knowledgeable friends.

But, in response to this question, my favourite answer will always be, “Mind your own f***ing business.”
This answer contains an expletive which shows that I’m not prudish, and yet it also contains an absolute nolle prosequi, allowing me to maintain an air of distance from more deviant practices, whilst still appearing worldly because I know that those encounters exist. I agree it’s not a response that is going to get me mentioned in literary supplements, and it lacks the wit of Oscar Wilde. But it’s a response that serves a purpose and, even if it doesn’t satisfy the person asking the question, it certainly satisfies me.

 By Ashley Lister

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

This opening stanza, from Rudyard Kipling’s ‘If’, is one of my favourite pieces of poetry. Kipling has in recent years been described as a jingoist, misogynist, colonialist and racist, and I’m not going to defend any of those accusations here. Indeed, as Kipling wrote the words ‘a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke’ (from his poem ‘The Betrothed’) I don’t think I’d know where to start defending him other than with a plea for insanity.

But ‘If’ is a different poetic beast compared to ‘The Betrothed’. Admittedly it’s sexist: the final line assures us that this is advice given to a male child – and the implication is that female children don’t merit the gravitas of such wisdom. But if we overlook that misogyny (and as a male member of the ruling patriarchy, I feel justified in overlooking that piece of misogyny) ‘If’ can be seen as a poem that advocates the power of self-reliance.

The reason why I’m mentioning this is because I’ve had several people ask me what it takes to become a writer. I’ve offered the platitudes of the usual responses: a love of language, determination, imagination, a transaction-based sexual relationship with someone who works for a publishing house. However, the thing I think that most writers need to succeed is balls.

Writers need balls the size of Space-Hoppers, but made from the sturdiest and most resilient cast iron available.

This is not me simply trying to suggest that writers are courageous. (Although, we are). I’m saying that writers need to be confident and courageous. And, when those voices of doubt creep in from our own subconscious, or sometimes from the less salubrious corners of the internet, we need to have the balls to turn a deaf ear to unwarranted criticism.

A while back, under one of my pseudonyms, I wrote a trilogy of erotic vampire stories. The books did quite well and, as the rights have recently reverted to me, I’ve decided to publish them on Amazon. I mention this because it explains how I happened upon a review that began and ended with the following words:

“Please understand-this book is one of the worst things I have ever read […] Please don’t read this, you’ll lose IQ points and dry up like the desert.”

Hurtful – yes. Justified – I suppose, if the review writer thought that, then it was entirely justified form that person’s perspective. But how, as a writer, am I supposed to continue after reading a review like this? It would be easy to tell myself that the reviewer was correct and decide that writing is not an appropriate outlet for my creativity. But then, that would also mean I was ignoring reviews such as this one:

“The plots are uncomplicated, but keep the reader guessing. The writing is evenly paced, and balanced. Alluring and provocative- an erotic tour de force that really is, very sexy.
Highly recommended.”

Reviews like this are a boon to every writer. Reviews like the previous one are necessary because not everyone is going to like the same sort of thing. If you read something that you think stinks, it’s only right that you should give your honest opinion.

But, as a writer, it’s a challenge to read such scathing criticism and then get back on the metaphorical horse to write again. As Cher once told us, “Words are like weapons, they wound sometimes.” So, to answer the perennial question of ‘What does it take to be a writer?’ I repeat my earlier response and say ‘balls’.

You need to have the balls to keep your head when all around are losing theirs and blaming it on you. You need to have the balls to trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowances for their doubts too.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a writer!

By Ashley Lister

 Last month I mentioned that I’ve recently published a collection of my personal poetry: Old People Sex (and other highly offensive poems). Most of it is rude, or political or simply offensive for the sake of being offensive. However, towards the back of the book, I’ve included some of the contributions I made whilst participating in local haiku death matches.

A haiku, to use the Western interpretation of the form, is typically a three-line format with 17 syllables arranged in a 5–7–5 pattern.

A haiku death match, for those of you unfamiliar with the concept, is a face-to-face challenge between poets. The poets are given a list of themes. They have to compose haiku on each of those themes. And then, once they’ve read their haiku to an audience, the audience have to judge which was better.

It’s a bizarre competition. It seems absurd to judge something as subjective as poetry with the objectivity of such audience-pleasing shenanigans. And the phrase ‘death match’ seems wholly inappropriate as I’ve not seen many people die during competitions.

Nevertheless, it’s a lot of fun and I’m regularly successful. The reason why I’m regularly successful is because I usually try to make the content of each haiku embarrassingly sexual. For some reason audiences enjoy the ribald content.

Consequently, out of the following five themes, I managed to turn the content sexual: Dry January, Fancy Dress, Old Rope, Feet and Crufts.

Dry January
Dry January:
Great for my liver but not
for her vagina

Fancy Dress
I wore 300
And 65 used condoms
I was a goodyear

Old Rope
Old rope or new rope
I don’t mind so long as I’m
getting some bondage

Feet
It’s not foot fetish.
It’s a feet fetish. I’m not
a pirate fucker.

Crufts
I once entered a
dog at Crufts. The police said
I was barred for life.

If you fancy writing a haiku on one (or more) of these themes, I’d love to see your poem in the comments box below.

Ash

by Ashley Lister

Before I start, I just want to say that I hope everyone reading this is well and managing to stay safe and unaffected by the current pandemic and the measures that are being used to address the pandemic.

Like so many people around the world, I’m currently working from home. This has allowed me to do some things that I would previously never have thought possible. I’ve delivered seminars with a dog sitting on my lap (so I look like some sort of Bond villain). I’ve managed to eat a full packet of biscuits whilst I’ve been in a conference, and I’ve not had to share them with anyone. And, so far during this quarantine, I don’t think I’ve bothered wearing pants whilst I’ve been at work.

In some ways, this is the life I always wanted to live.

One of the other things I’ve been able to do is take a close look at emails and work out the subtext beneath some of the common phrases that I see on an hourly basis. I’ve compiled a handy list that should help you to understand what’s really being said in the coy and euphemistic world of office interactions.

These are the things people write or say, followed by the translations:

I’m a little confused… WTAF are you talking about…?
Did you get a chance to look at…? Why haven’t you replied yet, you slow-moving waste of semen?
As was mentioned when we spoke face to face… I told you this in person. I had thought the glassiness in your eyes was a symptom of your inbreeding and not an indicator that you have the attention span of a goldfish.
Sent on behalf of… Don’t blame me for this shit.
Sorry this is late… I missed your stupid deadline. Fuck you. The crap you wanted is attached.
The forms are available on the following link… If you’d stayed awake during the induction meeting, you’d know how to access these forms without troubling me.
I hope this helps. That’s all the assistance you’re getting from me. Stop pestering me with your crap.

As I’m sure we all appreciate, this is not an exhaustive list. If you have any favourite phrases and their translations that you care to share, I’d love to see them in the comments box below.
Ash

By Ashley Lister

Further to the vow I made last month, to plot and structure the story that I’ve been busily not writing, I think I’ve now reached an impasse.

In How to Become a Successful Author, Russell Nohelty shrewdly points out that ‘not every idea needs to be made.” I read this point several times, not sure I’d previously considered such a dramatic approach to creativity. It has always been my personal policy, with every idea to enter my tiny mind, that I needed to work on until it is successfully written, polished and published.

But Nohelty’s comment hit a chord. He explains that “ideas are like petulant children,” because of the way they demand your attention. He goes on to explain that one of the most important skills to learn as a creator is which idea to develop and which idea to ignore.

On reflection, I can see this doctrine of judicious pruning is something I’ve accepted in several other areas of my life. I’ve cut down on jogging in the park because it’s a high impact activity that wrecks my knees and ankles. I can achieve the same levels of cardiovascular exercise in the gym on machines such as the cross-trainer or the stair-mill without making my joints hurt like I’ve been involved in a remake of Misery.

Similarly, whilst I can appreciate it would be a great idea to combine my favourite flavours into a sandwich, so that I can consume something that satisfies my desire for sweet and savoury treats, I have been sufficiently prudent not to treat myself to a chocolate and bacon sandwich.

Which means, the current WiP is going to be pigeon-holed and I’m going to focus on something more worthy of my time.

I suppose there have been clues that this step was necessary. I would sit in front of the PC, open the latest version of the story I was trying to write, and then immediately stand up and walk to the kitchen to get a beverage or snack.

And then there have been evenings when I’ve sat down at the WiP, told myself I need to get on with it, and then yawned and spent an evening with Netflix. I should have seen that displacement activity as a warning.

So, this month’s firm decision is that, to go forward, I need to abandon the current WiP. I’m not deleting it. I’m simply putting it on hold whilst I work on something that needs to be made. And I’d sincerely like to thank Russell Nohelty for his astute advice.

Ash

By Ashley Lister

“A month’s worth of unplanned and directionless writing can save you hours on plotting.”
Anon

I’m not sure who is responsible for the quote above, but I have to admit it has a terrible ring of truth to it. My PhD thesis focused on the intricacies of plotting. My latest non-fiction book, How to Write Short Stories and Get Them Published, has a substantial chapter that looks at approaches to plotting. My most successful stories have been plotted meticulously before I got into the process of writing them.

And yet, still, I will often try to coast my way past the plotting part of the process as though it’s simply a matter of sitting in front of the keyboard and hammering out words until everything falls into place.

Before I continue, I want to say a brief word about the notion of plotters and pantsers. There are some people who believe that writers fall into these two categories when it comes to writing: with the plotters making extensive notes before beginning, so that the journey of their story is always known to them, and the pantsers (so-called because they write by the seat of their pants) who simply write until the story concludes, without much of a preconceived idea of where the story is going. Whilst I’m not going to argue against the idea of anyone identifying as a plotter or pantser, I do believe that most of us writers inhabit the middle ground of these dynamics. Some stories come to us in such a way that there is no need to map out the structure. Similarly, some stories benefit from mapping so that their nuances and complexities aren’t lost in the white-hot rush of getting the words on the page. And then, there are stories that can be plotted, and still manage to branch off into surprising new directions as they are being written.

I mention all of this because I’ve spent the past month busily not writing a novel. Each time I try to sit down and plot the story, I tell myself that plotting is the antithesis of creativity and this novel deserves better. Each time I try to sit down and explore where the next scene is going by simply writing it, I find myself tying up loose ends early or opening subplots that look set to take over the entire narrative.

All of which is my way of saying enough is enough. I’ve spent the last month trying to write this story without giving plotting or structure any of the credence it so justly deserves. I’m now going to spend a week plotting and planning and I shall see how that pans out. Hopefully, having explored so many ideas with the pantser approach, I should now have sufficient material to plot something exceptional.

I shall let you know how this adventure transpires next month.

Ash