Some readers will complain that this post isn’t upbeat and happy. I’m sorry, but I feel strongly there are things I must address. I promise I’ll be posting happy blogs down the road. Gardening season’s almost here. Kayla’s college graduation (!) is around the corner, Girl Spa’s coming. *
There will be cheerful posts and lots of pictures!
Anyway, for the not upbeat and happy.
Recently Laura began posting random posts on the Robb FB page as we’d reached a point too close to newer books, and don’t want to spoil them
Apparently this gave a number of readers an excuse to demand—and it came real close to demands (sometimes over the line)—why Eve and Roarke couldn’t have a baby.
Oh God!
Let me say here, we don’t mind readers responding with courteous: Nora said no because. Or something along those lines. There’s just no need to pile on as the poster might be new to FB, might not read the blog where I’ve certainly explained my thought process on this.**
However, this escalated into a particular poster telling me to “open my mind” to the idea as Roarke told Eve he wanted children in a previous book.*** Listen, sister, check your entitlement at the door. What absolute arrogance, telling me to open my mind to kids. Hello, these are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, ones I created in a series I control. Plus wanting’s not having. I write what I write, and I have good reasons—explained far too often. Don’t like it, don’t read it. And don’t think you can tell me what to do, what to think, what to write.
Yes, Gentle Reader, I said that. I am not here to be a slave to certain reader’s wants, needs, whims. Again, I write what I write, and these are MY characters, in my books. Not yours. They are yours to enjoy or not, but they belong to me, they come from me.
Another was upset that I didn’t give Eve a good blood family member. This reader had read the blog, even cited my reasons for not doing so. She didn’t agree, and was adamant in her opinion of what I should do.
You don’t have to agree, but I’m not writing for your particular point of view. Again, I’ve explained my reasons for this. I won’t do so again. My characters, my books, my decision. If you want something else, read something else.
And yes, I said that, too. Blast away, it changes nothing. I am not obliged to meet an individual’s demands.
No, Peabody and McNab will not marry and have progeny any time soon. Morris will not find a new love of his life any time soon. Eve and Roarke will not get a puppy. They will not have a child, and she will not discover a kindly grandmother or delightful cousin.
Don’t like it? Sorry, not sorry.
I do understand, and have no issues, with a new reader or a new to the blog or FB asking these questions. You don’t know until you ask. I strongly object, and refuse to tolerate readers who tell me what I should do, need to do, must do, and get pissy with it. Or fucking tell me to open my mind.
So there’s that.
Then, on the Nora page, there has been a wave—a tidal wave—of people who just don’t read the post, then ask: What book is this, when is it out, what series is this, is this an old book, is this a new book, etc. When those answers are IN THE POST. Or very easily Googled. People skim, don’t actually read the information, then Laura has to answer their questions multiple times in the same thread. Because many don’t bother to read her previous answers in those comments.
When Laura, who has more patience in her pinky finger than I own in my entire body, finally writes a Cranky Publicist post, outlining this, asking people to read the information, or do a quick Google, some commenters suggest she retire, find another line of work. They call her rude, say she’s not suited for customer service.
I will not put up with that crap for one quick minute.
There would be no social media for me, or for my readers, without Laura. She answers repetitive, and yes, lazy questions, over and over, with courtesy and patience. But she’s not entitled to finally hit a wall, and say, Please, people, pay attention, or take a few minutes of your own time? Suddenly she’s rude, not cut out for the job, she should pass it on to someone else.
Here’s what I say to that.
Bite me.
I write the books. Laura handles the social media—in addition to other things. It’s a lot, for both of us. And both of us love our work and try to do a damn good job of it.
You don’t like what we do and how we do it? Go somewhere else. Seriously, go away.
Someone posted they were tired of social media admins admonishing readers. Boo fucking hoo. No one would `admonish’ you if you didn’t deserve it. God knows, Laura tolerates much more than I would in her position.
Now, let me add. Most of you who read this are appreciative, are courteous, are respectful and actually have a sense of humor. We’re both grateful for you. Seriously grateful for you. We value you. We want to keep all this going for you.
So thank you, and I hope you continue to enjoy the books and the posts.
To the others, let me repeat: Bite me.
Do not tell me what to write and how to write it. Do not, I swear to God, have the stunning nerve to tell Laura she’s not good at her work, and should move on. This woman is not just my personal publicist and social media goddess****, she’s my friend. She’s my goddamn family.
Seriously, who are you? What makes you so incredibly special that you dare to say such nasty and rude things to her, to me? And if you believe you’re entitled to do so, go away.
Please, for the rest of you, just enjoy what we both try to provide, for you. For all of you.
And if you think any of this is easy? Think again.
Once again, thank you, all of you, who understand and appreciate. It’s helps us get through these weird times.
Nora
* Battening down my hatches for the games.
** It’s hard to watch — after I share info that’s disappointing to a newbie — that person be inundated with sarcastic, impatient comments from people who heard the info long ago. Everyone starts somewhere — that’s kind of my mantra.
*** Ceremony in Death when Roarke was trying to shock Eve into defending herself after her suspension. That particular message is fully diluted later in the series by Roarke’s terror of Bella’s impending birth.
**** I’m more a nymph than a goddess.
I want to chime in and thank everyone who gets my snarky sarcasm when I refer to myself as the Cranky Publicist. I enjoy interacting with people — otherwise I’d have stopped doing this long ago.
Laura
