Tag Archive: mitchel foraker

LJ Idol

In this kooky online writing competition I’m in, we have a deadline on Monday. I work third shift’s (midnight to 8am), have a small child with autism, and not a whole lot of free time as a result.

I’ve been kicking around this piece for the past three days. It’s heavily based on one of my novels. If I’m completely honest, it’s me, disguising the Gray Morning universe as much as possible, changing character names/titles etc so that it reads like it’s based in the US, and so that people might not have their eyes roll into the back of their heads.

Except my antagonist, Mitchel, is so clearly himself. The protagonist of the scene, Amelia, is clearly herself, as well, but in the book she’s a minor character; her role is huge, but her screen time is very understated. Mitchel? Well, he’s been the focus of an Idol piece or two, and how his actions and words have a huge impact on my novel’s protagonist, Savin. He’s been deconstructed in a piece or two of meta I’ve written for the competition, as well.

I don’t want people to recognize him, but I do. I don’t want people to go “Oh, she’s writing that *%$#)*% novel again,” and back out of the entry. Not to mention, the topics this go around (we had to pick one out of a group of 5) are so open-ended and up to interpretation, and the voters have been favoring the very literal, very close interpretations this season. For people like me who sometimes view the topics abstractly, it’s been a challenge boxing myself in, a little.

The basis of this piece? Mitchel is undergoing an interrogation for the murder of Jasper (Jazz) Callahan — except, of course, the names are changed. Jasper is the Emperor of their particular world; Mitchel is his second-in-command, in a way. So I changed it from their world to the US; Mitchel is Vice President, Jazz President. Amelia is head of the Secret Service and is doing the interrogation herself.

Mitchel’s motivations are varied. He wants power. He wants control. He believes that Jazz never should have been handed this position — that Jazz is effortlessly perfect (and here is my topic connection — Mitchel believes that Jazz is a man of “shibusa,” though if you know Jazz’s character, you realize this is just a projection on Mitchel’s part), and therefore, shouldn’t have it.

There’s also a jealousy component — Jazz fell in love with Savin and married him, and not Mitchel, who Jazz had known first, longer, and just as intimately.

But in the interrogation scene I’m writing, I’m essentially doing it from Mitchel’s POV. I am deep inside his head; using his syntax and his word choice and just general state of mind. He is in control. He is lethal. He believes he isn’t going to end up charged with anything, though he is under arrest.

And seeing outside of his very narrow view point (me me me) and his own perceptions of himself (I am perfect and great and smarter than the rest of the world) is so difficult, I’m having trouble seeing what will trip him up. Because Amelia will get him to falter. She WILL get that confession. And she WILL secure the ability to indict Mitchel for treason.

But getting it down on paper when I am so deep in Mitchel’s POV is difficult.

I guess this is why I don’t write in first person. It’s hard, working so close to a fictional person’s brain. And I’m not even writing in first! It’s in third! But to write like how he speaks, I have to strip away that extra layer of distance.

Characters, man.


Apparently, my brain really, really wanted to write Savin/Mitchel smut. 

Like I really don’t get this aspect of my writing routine but there just get to be times where I crave a specific pairing and want to write it all the damn time, even of my own characters. And it’s a little frustrating with THIS particular pairing, because it’s not canon. Ever. EVER. 

I have a weakness for antagonistic relationships, okay? The more two characters hate one another in canon, the more I ship it. I just can’t help it. It’s a thing that’s left over from my fandom days — meaning when I was way more active in it. Y’know, when I was 12-15 years old. 

Also, I intend to sit down and construct a couple of “How to Write Smut” related blog posts. A friend of mine jokingly suggested I teach him how to write smut, which made me all flustered and blushy because HE IS A BETTER WRITER THAN I AM. I adore this man’s work, I really do. Still don’t have the balls the straight up tell him that but I have mentioned that he was my favorite both times he competed in LJ Idol with me. 😉 

One day I’ll be a little more organized. Still getting used to a lot of the major changes going on in my life, right now. It’s been a bumpy ride. Here’s some of that smut I’ll be finding a way to repurpose for my erotica penname, I’m sure…

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I sometimes do this thing where I write things for fun. It’s the weekend, I don’t want to work on my erotic romance novella; I don’t want to work on polishing up a few more short stories to thrust onto some poor editor for a literary magazine, either. So I decided I’d fulfill one of the writerverse challenges. The challenge? Trick or Treat.

The idea? Write a story. Write two different endings to that particular story. One ending was a “trick,” the other was to be a “treat.” 

I decided I wanted to write something involving my future Savin/Jazz/Mitchel love triangle. Because look, I’m a sucker for triangles. Triangles are everywhere in my stories. I can’t write a novel without one, if there happen to be more than two  characters in the same story. I’m awful for this. I know I am. 

Except it wasn’t going to be canon. It was just gonna be me, getting some Savin/Mitchel and Savin/Jazz fun out of my system. Except the Savin/Mitchel version of the scene? So totally canon dialogue. It’s written in first person, though, because I thought — hey, I’m not writing canon. Why would I need to write this in third?

I do this to myself a lot. But now I have dialogue, and character actions, that I can at least salvage when the time comes. This scene can’t be too far from the end of the book — Jazz and Mitchel are still together, but it’s obvious that their relationship is about to end, and Savin’s more or less no longer in denial about how badly he wants to be with Jazz. But I just… yeah, I’ll just show you the Savin & Mitchel version of the piece:

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So I have barely touched the erotica I’ve been working on and have, instead, spent most of my day writing my LJI entry for the week. I actually got the short end of the stick in terms of topics — Gary gave us a list of 14 topics, said “First come, first serve.” I fell asleep twenty minutes before the topics went up, woke up 7ish hours later, and there were only two topics left. I snagged “Memories,” and then went back to bed. 

I finished the LJI entry, though. I am looking for objective betas. It’s based (roughly) on my planned ending for the Tomorrow Trilogy. Any concrit is more than welcome. 🙂 I thrive off it, really.

The entry is under the cut, since it’s a 2000 word long piece. 🙂

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I Swear, Brain…

So I finished that ImagineYourOTP piece I started yesterday, which is great, because I haven’t finished much of anything lately even though I’ve done plenty of starts and stops.

I can’t let go of things that are going on in my life. The anger over them pops up unexpectantly and just takes over my mind. It makes me incapable of writing; it makes me incapable of doing anything, and it sucks. I want to stop feeling angry. I want to write. But I can’t make myself write, either, when I catch myself in that loop. It’s awful, and I hate it, and I’ll find a way to break it, one of these days.

Until then, here’s part of the smut I wrote. Enjoy:


 Savin’s jaw dropped again, the heat in his face returning tenfold. “You — “ He cut himself off, almost grinding his teeth together as Mitchel’s words filtered through his brain. “You think you’d be the one to top?”

“I’m older,” Mitchel stated, as if it were that simple.

“I’m taller,” Savin muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mitchel snorted. “By maybe two inches at best,” he said, putting the knife down on the counter. He gave Savin a sly smile. “Would you like to test this theory, Bates?”

Savin’s arms tightened over his chest, his eyes unable to leave Mitchel’s hands as they began to deftly undo the knot of his tie. “You’re not suggesting we –” A lump formed in his throat, forcing him to clear it. “– we fuck, are you?”

Those fingers never stopped their motions, pulling the tie away from Mitchel’s neck with practiced ease. Mitchel’s sly smile never faltered, not even as he approached Savin, effectively backing him against the counter. “And if I am?” Mitchel asked, leaning in close. His breath was hot against Savin’s neck, their bodies not quite touching.

“Uh — I have a boyfriend…?” Savin mumbled, refusing to meet Mitchel’s eyes. A boyfriend who might be home any time. A boyfriend who’d probably flip his shit if he saw Savin pinned against the counter like this, Mitchel dangerously close and moving even closer.

“I think Callahan wouldn’t mind watching us, should he walk in at any time,” Mitchel breathed, his lips brushing against Savin’s neck. Savin leaned as far away from Mitchel as he could, almost sliding on top of the counter just to get away.

“You are seriously fucked up if you think I’m gonna cheat on Jazz just because you think he’d be okay with watching us fuck,” Savin muttered, pushing Mitchel away from him. He slid away from Mitchel as best he could, making sure to keep his front to the older man the whole time.

Except those hands wrapped around Savin’s wrist, preventing him from getting away. Mitchel’s strength surprised Savin as Mitchel pulled Savin back to in front of him. Mitchel’s free hand ghosted along Savin’s bare thigh and slid under the apron. “So?” Mitchel countered, smirking at Savin. “I thought you said you would top, Bates? So far I’m the only one making any advances…”

Savin grit his teeth together, wishing he didn’t feel a familiar warmth moving through his body as Mitchel’s fingers continued to drag themselves along sensitive skin. Instinctively, he spread his legs, letting Mitchel move between them. “That’s because I don’t want to make any ‘advances,’” he groaned, a quiet gasp escaping him as Mitchel kissed along his neck and shoulders.