Lisabet Sarai
It’s a bit hard for me to believe, but 2024 marks twenty-five years since the publication of my first novel. I have been writing spicy fiction for a quarter of a century! Who would ever have expected that in 1999, when as a lark I sent off three chapters of an erotic fantasy entitled Raw Silk to Black Lace Books in London?
I’ve been writing all my life, but I never considered trying to publish anything until, on a trip to Instanbul, I happened to pick up a used copy of the Black Lace title Gemini Heat by Portia da Costa. Back then, the Black Lace slogan was “Erotic fiction for women, by women”. Probably I was primed for adventure, being on vacation in an exotic locale and so on, but the book stunned me with its imagination, its diversity and its heat. Though I’d read quite a bit of erotica, Portia’s tale of twins caught in the lascivious snare of a dominant art collector was a revelation: intelligent, varied, transgressive and deeply arousing.
In the back matter, Black Lace included a pretty explicit reader questionnaire and a list of other titles in the imprint. As I browsed through this material, I had a startling thought: I’ll bet I could write a book like this.
So when I got home, I sat down at my laptop and began the tale of Kate O’Neill, an American software engineer who takes a job in Bangkok and becomes sexually involved with a commanding, mysterious Dom and a polymorphously perverse Thai prince. The novel is an erotic odyssey in the classic mold, one woman’s very personal explorations into the nature of lust and love. Having been through a similar journey myself, I found that the book almost wrote itself, as I poured my own desires and fantasies out onto the page.
I printed out my three chapters and snail-mailed the manuscript to London. Two weeks later I received a postcard acknowledging receipt and warning me that given the size of the Black Lace slush pile, I might not hear from them for several months. I shrugged and smiled. It was, after all, a long shot, something I’d done more or less for the heck of it.
Imagine my astonishment when less than a week later I got an email offering me a contract! And then, I realized with queasy excitement that I actually had to finish writing the novel!
I’ve learned a lot since then. I’ve published a lot of stories, ranging from short tales a few thousand words long to eighty thousand word novels. My book list on Amazon includes over one hundred titles. Over the years, I’ve seen the writing business change, as e-books and then self-publishing became popular. I’ve worked with a dozen different publishing companies, both traditional and indie. It has become much easier to create books, but significantly more difficult to sell them. Still, I’m in it for the long haul. I’m having too much fun to give up.
Raw Silk has been through four different editions, with three different publishers. A year ago, I reclaimed the rights from the last one, so the title has been out-of-print for a while. That, however, is about to change.
To celebrate my quarter century as a published author, I am working on a twenty-fifth anniversary edition of Raw Silk, re-edited and expanded with bonus material. I plan both print and e-book editions (so far all my self-published books have been electronic only) and, if I can manage it, audio as well. When is this going to happen? Well, given the demands of my day job, I’m not sure, but definitely during 2024. Don’t worry, I’ll let everyone know!
And then... it will be time to start the next quarter century!
3 comments:
Congrats on your quarter century anniversary, Lisabet! You know I love your work. :)
I've read Portia da Costa and Emma Holly from Black Lace. You're in good company!
Hi, Tina!
Thanks. There's a lot more erotic romance out there now... but quantity doesn't guarantee quality.
This is a very inspiring post! Congratulations on your book's 25th anniversary. If I make it to the 25th anniversary of my first published book, I'll be 80 years old. This is the book I acknowledge, anyway. We won't talk about the disaster from 2007 that almost caused me to quit writing altogether.
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