What makes me the luckiest erotic romance writer in all the world? My mom.
There’s actually a decent chance I wouldn’t be writing erotic romance right now if it weren’t for Mom. When I was a little girl, she led me by example. Her stash of romance novels took up the whole top shelf of the closet. She never discouraged me from reading anything. She kept Henry Miller on the bottom shelf, where little hands could easily reach it, try to read it, and decide for themselves that Judy Blume was a better read. Then she supplied me with brand new Judy Blume books – in hardcover with their glossy jackets – for years.
Finally, Mom started me reading romance. I was in law school, at a horribly low point in my life, and she sent me a care package with two romance novels in it. Once I was hooked (halfway through the first one), she sent me the copy of Mallory Rush’s Love Game that is on my keeper shelf as I write this.
Thanks, Mom!
Mom sent me a copy of People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue last year, with a sticky note attached: “To help with your writing.”
Mom thinks I can do anything. I know what that sounds like. A couple of Romanticons ago, Mom and I were watching a pole dancer from Cleveland Exotic Dance climb to the top of her pole, almost to the ceiling, and then stretch out from it as if she were a flag, perpendicular to the pole itself. I was really impressed. My mother said, “You can do that!”
I can’t, of course. But what matters is that my mother thinks I can. For whatever reason.
Mom wants to help assemble the little goodie bags I’m bring up for this year’s Romanticon (my first as an author). I kind of think she realizes this is as close as she’ll get to making those little wedding favors, but still, it’s a big job and she wants to help.
Most of all, Mom supports me on every step of my journey as an author. One of my exes asked what my mother would think if she could see what I wrote. I told him, “She would probably tell you it could be hotter. Then she would yell at you for suggesting she ought to be ashamed of me. If you’d like to try that, put the phone on speaker.”
I don’t get to see Mom all that often, but I try to make the visits count. At last year’s Romanticon (it’s our annual mother-daughter trip), Mom won a prize at the pajama bingo game. Alpha Caveman Nick Soto came over to check her numbers, and everyone watched as he stood over her shoulder in all his shirtless glory and read her winning numbers out loud. After he’d left her the prize and I gave her a hug, we all went back to playing. A game or two later, she said, “Oh, Lex! You know what you should have done?”
“What?” I asked.
“You should have gotten a picture of Nick while he was here.”
I don’t get to be a step ahead of Mom very often, but of course I caught her with Nick. And with lots of other new hot male friends. All the not-so-incriminating photos (it’s only incriminating if you feel guilty) are over on my blog.
I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day! Share a story or a memory in the comments.
**Alexa Day’s mom promises it will not take two years to finish the next book (Alexa’s first book, ILLICIT IMPULSE, is available right now!). You can keep Alexa honest by following her on Twitter, liking her on Facebook, or keeping up with her blog at www.alexaday.net. All you have to do is send frequent but gentle reminders that she ought to be working. She’ll take the hint.
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