Filtering by Category: my musings

It's my authorversary!

Happy authorversary to me!

Happy authorversary to me!

If you didn't read the title to this in the key of Tony, Toni, Toné, why are you even here? LOL

Warning: This will likely be a jumble of disjointed thoughts. Welcome to my brain.

All jokes aside, one year ago today I published my first novella, Adore You and the year following has been a helluva ride. A few days ago I Instagramed a video I took of what was my highest ranking to date on Amazon. In the caption of the video I said, "[I am] so abundantly blessed to have been given a talent that has the capacity to be transformative". Sitting here now in a moment of reflection, I definitely still feel this very strongly.

Being a writer has always been a thing I've said I am, but never really felt like I was. I've always been enamored with words, but I stayed pump-faking. I could never get my rhythm, voice, tone, or point of view quite right. Everything felt hollow because I had no direction. AY flowed from my fingertips so organically, that when I finally typed the end? I KNEW I had done something. And it felt good. Didn't matter if aaaaanybody else read or got or cared about it because I had finally done the thing I'd claimed I was going to do for more than half of my life. And I'd done it in an ok manner (to my standards, I'm pretty hard on myself). I knew that it was only the beginning and it would only get better. I can't wait to be reflecting on my writing in about ten years when it'll be light years from whatever level of good it is at currently. Just the thought of it excites me.

Last night I was Marco Poloing with a friend of mine and we were talking about our writing processes and story construction and how we want our stories to be received. We were both pretty much in agreement that our writing is focused on bringing to life characters who are true to themselves and grounded in reality. There is no real...joy...for me anyway...to making someone perfect and/or unflawed. I like to write about super regular, degular, schmegular folks living their lives and finding love along the way.

But speaking of friends, can I say that I am so glad to have joined the ranks for black indie romance authors? Let me tell you this...some of these women I've met in real life; others I've only had the pleasure of knowing as they live in my computer, but the level of support and camaraderie and sisterhood and professionalism and...hell, I'ma just say it...black girl magic I've encountered is unparalleled. Authors who don't know me from a can of paint sharing my works, introducing their audiences to my ridiculousness, and just being genuinely supportive--when I tell you my heart is FULL just thinking about it? SHEESH. I'd be here all day if I were calling out people specifically, but it just makes me smile thinking about the ways in which I've seen these sisters uplift one another and I'm super happy that they've embraced me as one of their own. 

And the readers...man...LISSEN. So two very important things happened in the span this year...1:I released the first of my works and b: I did my first real life signing situation. As a reader, I knew how picky folks could be. I know how picky EYE am, so I try crafting my stories with this in mind. But...my readership...gurl, chile, hunty...lemme tell you how DOPE these women are. They are a group of fiercely opinionated women who will not hesitate to tell you in detail how xyz scene or abc character made them feel. They'll lift you up when you're feeling low and drag you when you playin' games with their releases. (Shoutout to every review of Sparks Fly and Smitten that asks about Pat/Dame LOL. I PROMISE they are coming, y'all.).

In just 12 short months, my life has changed in a great number of ways, but the journey that authoressing has taken me on is the most exhilarating. It is a tremendous pleasure to be able to craft story and I am grateful beyond measure for the gift. I'll be authorpersonladying in person a few more times this summer, so if you're coming to Behind the Pen or #BlackGirlPassion, please make sure you stop by and say hello. Details for both events are on the Events tab on this here website.

xo,

Nicole

on my deborah cox steez...

Today I got off of work early and took a detour that took me past this place and immediately I was overcome with emotion. Idk if y'all know this but I'm a big ol' sensitive softie LOL. I stay on my MJB and Deborah Cox...reminiscing while being sentimental. I spent ages 5-11.75 in this jawn. McKinley Elementary was the basis of the beginnings of my obsession with literature. I was already reading before I stepped foot in this jawn, but my love of it was cemented within these walls. Class library trips were the dopest as I got to pick out books written by my faves and get lost in them. The Star Reader program was my jam...and I beasted it every year. I also got one of very few spankings in my childhood behind finessing the program one year.

Quick Baby Nic story time...so the Star Reader program was a book report driven initiative in which we wrote reports based on books we'd read and whoever read the most at the end of the year got to go to the BookIt! pizza party and get a pass to Six Flags. The idea, however, was that you were reading as you were writing the reports, right? Well I was always reading. I lived half a block from the public library and spent hours in there weekly. So being the ingenuitive baby nerd that I was, I figured that as long as I'd read the books I could write the reports and turn them in. One day my daddy saw me at the kitchen table, churning out Star Reader report after Star Reader report. He asked if I'd read all of those books that evening.

I replied, "No, daddy! I read these books a while ago."

"So you're lying to the people with your book reports?"

"No! I have read all of these books."

"But you were supposed to be reading them during the duration of the program, right? That is the point of it all."

*sassily* "The point is to read." [Bruh...clearly I was punch drunk off power!]

The conversation ended shortly thereafter and me and my bottom soon learned the difference between an outright lie and lie of omission. My daddy and I laugh about this situation to this day because he always says he was impressed by my thought process, but knew that allowing me to continue would make me believe that it was okay to cut corners and finesse my way through tasks at school. He wanted me to understand why what I was doing was wrong and that wrongdoing at consequences. Baby Nic just wanted to be the star pupil and go to the pizza party and wasn't tryna hear all that noise LOL!

McKinley is also where I got my first doses of seeing black women in professional capacity who were, in my young eyes, giants and paragons of model behavior. I always looked up to my mama, aunts and grandmas, but Mrs. Humphrey (2nd grade), Mrs. Davis (5th grade), Mrs. Rivers (6th grade) and Mrs. Nichols (principal) were idols of mine as well. I remember every morning of 2nd grade the entire class said the pledge of Allegiance and then sang "Lift Every Voice and Sing" at Mrs. Humphrey's insistence. I remember the cantankerous and motivational speeches from Mrs. Davis in 5th grade when folks were cutting the fool. I remember the effortless glamour and maternalistic care of Mrs. Rivers in 6th. Mrs. Nichols was replaced early in my elementary tenure because she had a reputation for being too stern. I only remember a larger than life figure with a no nonsense demeanor, but an obvious love for the students in her care daily. And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Mr. Pridgeon, our gym teacher, whose daughter I idolized when we were shorties. She was a dancer and always seemed to move with grace. We were only a few years apart, but I remember him inviting us to her dance recitals and being amazed at what the folks now call Black Girl Magic.

Driving past there today I could vividly recall running through the halls with my friends, going on special errands for teachers (yep, I was a pet!), lining up to go to art or gym or the library or home and I got hella verklempt. The building is mad small to me now, but it was larger than life back then. McKinley was where I experienced my first heartbreak (David C. didn't like me as more than a friend...) and cemented my lifelong desire for learning and excelling through hard work. if anyone had told that little baby pictured above that one day she'd be writing books and people all over the world (y'all gon let my one France sale cement my global sensation status!) would be reading them and she probably would have said "Nah, I'm no Ann M. Martin!" LMAO!

an indie love 2017 post mortem

I woke up this morning missing yesterday.

For months I have been anticidreading the IndieLove event. I don't get nervous, y'all. I'm not easily frazzled but this had me SHOOK. I don't know why because I attended last year and it was nothing but a super dope collision of positive energy, but it's different when you're on the other side. All these thoughts kept swirling in my mind about whether or not I brought too many books, if people were even gonna know who I was, blah blah blah bullshit. I was a mess the morning of the event. Thank God for my friends. Their energy was a temper to my crazy high nervous energy. They kept me from jumping off a ledge multiple times that morning, lol. Trina, Sarah, Ashley...y'all are just...I love y'all infinitely.

But then the event started and folks started streaming in and my energy shifted. My table was pretty near the front so I was one of the first faces people saw. I knew I needed to be on. All of that previous nagging doubt started to fade as soon as the first person stepped up to my table. It disappeared almost completely when I made my first sale (shoutout to Marshall--the real MVP!). The afternoon was a little hectic with a panel discussion breaking up the time sitting and signing and selling. The panel discussion was such a good time. Sharee Hereford moderated and listen...y'all, I wish I had the foresight to have had the entire panel recorded because a) Sharee's questions were fantastic & 2) there were so many gems dropped by the brilliant women beside me on panel (shoutout to Té, Phyllis, DL, & my romperbewtwin Alexandra). 

As the day progressed I met so many amazing people who read and liked my work. Hearing how people have connected with my work was a little overwhelming, I won't lie. But overwhelming in a good way. It wasn't the same as seeing words in a review or on a Facebook post. That face to face when you get to connect a name from a screen to a face and the connection is just...my Gs, I can't even describe it. I got to meet one of my favorite young journalists/fiction writers (shoutout to Bria!), stan for my faves who were shilling books besides me (shoutout to Bailey/CCJ/Alex/Phyllis!), meet a few authors I'd wished to connect with a little more but simply did not have the time to (shoutout to Mercy B & Rae Lamar!) and catch up with a reader I met at Girl Have You Met - Houston who was a hometown homie (shoutout to Trina!). It was also a whole bunch of black women hugging. LOL! 

Jos-Renee and crew once again did a fantastic job with the compilation and organization of this event. The sheer brilliance to put together a FUBU ass event like this is unmatched. I tip my hat to the IndieLove staff for doing the damn thang, one mo' 'gin.

And when it was all over? I felt full...satiated...relieved...and low key ready to do it all over again. *counts down the days to Behind the Pen in NYC*

If you're unable to make to any of the places I'll be doing signings this summer/fall and want a signed book? I have a few for sale! 1 for $10 or 2 for $15--shipping included. So hit me up via email if you'd like to purchase: authornicolefalls [at] gmail [dot] com

All About that Base...

Today in a writer's group on FB, a question was posed about what things we like/dislike re: the publishing industry and books being released. The first response was from a reader who made some very astute observations about the chasm that exists between indie and trad pub writers as well as expressing her thanks for Black women writers writing stories that resonated with her. She says specifically, "I don't want someone who can't relate skin wise and lifestyle wise writing stories I want to read [...] I feel how black indie authors write is for us and by us." And I sat up in my little office chair and gave a shout like "YAS SIS YAS!" Because she was speaking the truth. And so very often when other people write us into their works, we operate in ways that are foreign to me, as a Black woman. 

A few years ago one of my favorite writers, Tayari Jones, gave an interview to the website The Feminist Wire in which she says the following...

Black woman are the best readers. Nikki Giovanni told me to take care of your black female readers because they will take care of you. They’ll take care of you for the rest of your career. You can fall out of favor with the New York Times whatever and whatever…. [Black female readers] will always be there for you.

When I was in between books and I was having a hard time getting my book published, black ladies were sending me stuff in the mail, cookies, knit me an Afghan. All these things helped me write the next book, so I know who loves me. A lot of people read me, but I know who loves me.

A lot of people use the word….a lot of black writers say that a book is “just” for black people. Don’t use the word “just.” I hate the word “just,” I cringe at the word. Don’t talk bad about the base. That’s the base. You make sweet love to the base, you say hello to the base.

These words have stuck with me since I absorbed them the first time and are almost always the driving force and motivation for me to put ass in chair and hand to keyboard. I released my first book almost a year ago and the way that the readers in the Black indie romance community have embraced me is akin to that base Tayari describes.

Black women just have this way about them that often goes unnoticed when outsiders speak about us and our associations with each other. Being a black woman is like being a member of the most exclusive club in town because the sisterhood, camaraderie, and general support is unmatched. We look our for our own--holding them up when they seem to falter, championing them hardest when they win. Every single personal reader message that I have received has been from a black woman thanking me for writing stories to which they could relate. 

Which is why I do what I do. I cannot tell you how much I am buoyed by the simple fact that my words are connecting with whom I had in mind as I write. So much of publishing is concerned about integration and inclusion, and...honestly? I'm not interested. Will I ever tell others that they can't read my work? Absolutely not. The work is for the consumption of everyone, but it is written specifically by this Black woman for Black women. I write to Black women because they are me.

I'm writing men with whom they could see themselves or have seen reflected in the world around them. I'm writing women that they can either relate to or see themselves being friends with. I write to Black women as a head nod of acknowledgement. A literary "I see you, sis!" And the reception? The love I receive back? The "ok sis, but where's my book tho?" snarky commentary. I live for it. Because as Tayari said, when no one else will I know one thing for sure...my sistas got my back and for as long as my pen is hot, I will forever have theirs.