Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Rant Post

First, a disclaimer (kind of). Writing is my profession (ok, one of them). As such I try at all times to be a professional. There are some who claim this includes never saying an unkind word about anyone for any reason or offering any opinions. I disagree. Perhaps that's due to my other profession and my inherently argumentative nature. But to me being a writer is having opinions. It's opening up my brain and throwing it all on paper for anyone to see. I can't not have opinions. Every time you open one of my books you get my opinions. What I think is desirable, what I find attractive, what I find distasteful. You step into my world. Then that my world becomes your world as you bring your own experiences and opinions to the table.

I haven't ranted in a while. And ironically, the last time I did, it was about this very same topic.

The so-called "history gestapo." Okay, so that's a distasteful word, but honestly I can't think of one more appropriate. You know who I mean: those people that think they are an expert on every historical era and take it upon themselves to nitpick things to death. I'm not talking about readers, either, I'm talking about other authors.

The ones who feel the need to tell you your stories aren't up to par. Without ever having read them.

The ones who say "bloody hell" is out of place in a Regency because the phrase wasn't used then. Actually, yes, it was. The thing of it is that "bloody" was a very naughty word. A gentleman would no sooner say "bloody" in front of a lady than he would drop the f-bomb. Unless he was really damn pissed off.

The ones who say, "I'm glad you call your work 'history rewritten' since you don't really write history." It's been months since Author X said that little gem to me and I'm still holding a grudge.

The ones who are flat out rude, overbearing snots.

In short, if I wanted your opinion, Author X, I'd ask for it. I don't, so I haven't, and every time you give it you only come across as jealous, petty, and threatened.

Bloody hell, you do.

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