I'm excited to have the co-authors of Patience, Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas, on my blog today! Willsin I've known from facebook, where we've had a few delightful, and oddly long, discussions about words and language. Always fun. I love this interview of Katie Salidas asking Willsin Rowe questions. I won't spoil it by mentioning my favorite part.
Q: You’ve written quite a few
wonderfully smutty stories on your own, what made you decide to co-author this
story?
A: It really did feel like the natural
step to take. With Patience, I knew the idea was sound, and that the rough map
of the story would work. But the intricacies weren’t meshing. The tiny cogs
just weren’t lining up. It just felt like exactly the kind of story that needed
input from both genders. And of course, who better to work with than my bestest
beta-reading buddy?
Q: What is it about the genre that
draws you in? Why do you love to write Erotica?
A: I just love to write, no matter what
genre. But for me, Erotica is special. It’s not just about grabbing two
characters (or more!) and tossing them in a bed together with the instructions
to get it on. It’s to be expected that the characters get all hot and sweaty,
sure...but I love the challenge of making it unstoppable rather than
opportunistic. The background and shape of the story need to funnel these
characters into each other’s...well, let’s say “arms”!
Q: Pick a favorite line (or interaction
between the characters) from Patience and
tell us why you like it so much?
A: Ah, I love this bit:
I
turned him to face me. “Edan, I know you won’t like to hear this, but you’re
still so young. You see everything in black and white. Only when you get older
will you see the shades of gray.”
“Yeah.
In the mirror.”
It
felt almost like he’d slapped me, but I tried not to let it show. “Well, you
sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”
“What?
What did I say?”
“You
know what you said.”
“Yes,
I do. I just have no fucking idea what you
heard.”
Why do I love it? Because it shows how
the different ages and genders of the characters lends a totally different
understanding to one simple remark. And I’d like to point out, too, that the
“shades of gray” reference was written in 2010; long before I’d heard of...any
particular books that it might make you think of!
Q: What does your family think of your
work? Does your wife ever do any Beta Reading for you?
A: Most of my family know, and are
pretty much ambivalent about it. My mother was a little taken aback, but my
wife is totally supportive. She doesn’t beta for me, but she appears (in one
form or another) in many of my stories. She’ll often help me road-test an idea,
too!
Q: We’ve touched on this before. What
is it about the older woman/younger man pairing that is so intriguing, in your
opinion?
A: Ah, well, I think it comes down to a
few elements like confidence, communication and respect (including self-respect).
When dealing with males, older women tend to do better than younger women on
all those elements (wild generalization, I know). Most young people still have
that crazy idea that men and women both speak the same language! Older women
also know how to stroke an ego without feeling like they’re diminishing
themselves. And lastly, they know what they want, they know where it is...and
they don’t assume a young man can find it by himself!
Gregory Allen commentary:
Okay, now I can say my favorite part. I love that the "shades of gray" line was left in! We often think of writing bravery as doing something no one has ever done before, but sometimes the brave choice is to stick with what you trust even if some other book has come along and taken a phrase over. Reminds me of U2, at one of their live shows, they introduced "Helter Skelter" by saying, "This is a song Charles Manson stole from the Beatles and now we're stealing it back!"
Okay, now here is an exerpt from Patience, available now, so you don't have to wait when you're done with this to read the rest. Enjoy!
Patience © August 2012 by Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas
Excerpt 1
He turned, drilling his steel-gray eyes into mine. “You
regret last night, don’t you?”
“Last night...” I bit down on my burgeoning smile. “Well,
I’ve certainly done smarter things than seduce a co-worker.”
“The way I see it, I seduced you.”
“Such is my skill, young man.” I couldn’t suppress my smile
this time. “No, it wasn’t my smartest move, but I certainly don’t regret it.
Anyway, I thought you boys compartmentalized everything.”
He slipped his hand onto my thigh. “How can I when you’re
right here?”
I bit my lip and squeezed my legs together. “Stop…” It was
barely a whisper, not convincing at all. He had such big hands they were
impossible to ignore. Especially sliding up my leg like that.
I clamped my hand over his. “No, Edan. We have to get back
to the office. We have another pitch tomorrow.”
He dug his fingers in, a needless show of strength. With a
puff of disgust he pulled back and turned away. “Fine. Then maybe tomorrow
you’ll let me drive.” He shucked out another mint and ground it to death.
“Oh, act your fucking age, Edan.” Jesus. I sound like I’m
his mother. I started the car and mashed out my frustration on the gas pedal.
We drove back in man-made silence. Before I’d even turned off
the engine Edan had his door open, ready to storm upstairs and broadcast our
failure. To distance himself from the stink of it. I curled my fingers around
his arm.
“Wait.”
He pulled loose from my tenuous grasp and flounced out of
the car. I turned off the engine and rushed after him, my clattering heels
echoing off the concrete ceiling of the parking garage.
“Edan, stop!”
The touch of my hand on his shoulder seemed to calm him a
little. He stopped and let me turn him around. I felt like his mother again as
I pressed him back against the wall. In my heels I was almost eye-to-eye with
him. Or would be, if he’d look at me.
“You still have so much to learn, boy.”
“Don’t call me boy. I’m 24 years old.”
“In every way possible.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Look, we need to present a united front. Yes, we
probably lost the pitch. But those people up there rely on me, and now you, to
bring business in. They need to believe in us.”
“Then untie the apron strings! Let me take more control.”
I rested my hand against his chest. Even through the thick
wool of his suit, I fancied I could feel the heat of his skin, and I nearly
lost my train of thought. “This is not the time for that discussion, Edan.”
“It never is.”
“Stop. I mean it, this is not the time. We need to radiate
calm, give off a positive vibe. Can you do that?”
He shook his head and puffed out a resigned chuckle. Finally
his cool eyes met mine. “Maybe. What’s it worth to you?”
The warmth of his hand was all too real as he cupped the
fullness of my breast through my blouse. I’d been so focused on his eyes I
hadn’t seen him move. My breath tripped up as he squeezed my hardening nipple.
“Edan…” The simple urgency of my own voice sounded like a
betrayal. With my hand over his I rested my head on his chest, just to take the
weight off my untrustworthy knees. With my eyes closed and the heat of his body
against me it was easy to forget he was born the year I finished school.
