Month: October 2014

Sometimes There’s Just a Lot Going On

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Uncategorized

Hey there!

I’m sorry I don’t have a sufficient post for you right now.

I usually try to write my posts a few weeks in advance, but time just got away from me and there are some things I’m trying to sort through in my personal life as well as my writing life.

I’ll clue you in a bit more next Monday, but for now I recommend you take the time you would spend reading this post and spend it in silence.

Count the gifts you’ve experienced today and hold them in gratitude before the father.

Be blessed today.

I’ll touch base next week.

xo,
           –Lex

The Sexual Content Threshold

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World


I bought a book this summer and was quite excited about it. It was a time travel novel taking place between modern day New York and regency-era England. Like really, does it get better than that?

In the first third of the book, it didn’t seem to. The book was interesting, the characters awesome, the plot shaping up nicely. I was quite a fan and had trouble putting it down.

The time streams of the male and female leads collided (as they should. Got to keep things interesting right?) The chemistry was fun between the characters. I was interested to see how things would unfold between them. I mean, obviously they would end up together, but they were on opposite sides of the time-traveling underworld. It was a classic forbidden love set-up in a weird Jane Austen sci-fi mash up. The author had my wrapped attention!

And then things took a terrible turn as I discovered the truth about the book.

It was *gasp* a kissing book!

I’ll be the first to admit that I love a good love story. But a love story and a romance novel are two very different things. Let’s be clear on that, And a lot of the difference has to do with the intent in which it was made and consumed and the sexual content of the piece.

Suddenly in this wonderful story, the plot was being interrupted unexpectedly with a make-out session in the woods. In the rain. I am not kidding.

There was no lead up. The characters had just met a scene before. They were both from the conservative regency-era. There was nothing in their characters to lead to steamy scene complete with “desire” and “throbbing.” It felt like it was there because the writer thought the reader wanted it. Not the characters.

There were so many specifics, that I had to skip some portions–something I’m not prone to do.


And I understand that it is for this experience that some people turn to books. I was just disappointed that such a wonderful story was traded in to give in to misplaced desire.

A great plot was sacrificed to include what other books have embraced to sell more copies. I felt cheated.

Suddenly the characters were not the people I was getting to know and care about. They were eratic caricatures of sexual organs, Their cause was no longer so important. The balance of time and space and good and evil were secondary to these sleeping habits of characters. The truth and humanity was cheapened because sex is what is selling books.

I cannot say if this choice was purely the authors or if there was pressure from the publisher, but I was saddened, I was disapointed. And I at last found the threshold between a love story and emotional porn.

I am okay with a book having sexual content even though I don’t agree with premarital sex. It’s still out there, part of lives and I don’t expect people let alone characters to adhere to my personal convictions.

It is when they use the word ‘nipple’ that I begin to feel uncomfortable. It is adding a specific. It’s makes me visualize something I don’t really wants to. Forces me into the experience mentally and emotionally.

When things are hinted at, I can easily glance over them. It does not add to or take away from the plot. It is when specificity is at the forefront that things take a turn my mind does not want to take. And this is becoming more popular among books for adult women. There used to be a difference between adult fiction (fiction for adults) and adult fiction (porn). Now adays? Not so much.

So I raise this question: Why is it so hard to escape this? Why can we not separate a love story from a sex story? And why can’t a story have sex that isn’t laid bare in gory details? And why are we satisfied with every detail when all it does is tell a lie?

I guess this post is more rant than anything else. (Sorry about that.) I just wish more for the writers of this generation. I want us to be telling stories with truth. Not stories that hold back nothing while still feeding the reader a load of shit.

Readers deserve better. And I as a reader–not a writer–am asking for better,

Having Exhaled

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Breathe Conference, Writing Thoughts

This past weekend I had the great privilege of volunteering at the Breathe Conference.

It was a beautiful time to connect with both old and new writing friends and to encourage one another forward in our art.

Part of what I have come to be so thankful for at this conference is the lack of self-importance of everyone. I started coming to this conference as a punk seventeen year old who only knew she wanted to write stories. If the organizers of the conference had just stuck up their noses at the little girl with no clue, I am not kidding, my world would look a lot different right now.

Instead, I was welcomed with opened arms, mentored, and loved by so many awesome writers and publishing folks. They have encouraged me in my writing as well as my career and I am forever for grateful for them and the conference that introduced me to them.

So going to this thing is like meeting up with family. Only great family!…Not drunk/creepy Uncle Phil. It’s like the thanksgiving you wish was real. And it is… it’s just not thanksgiving, it’s a writer’s conference!

I have been writing fiction for ten years. It’s a good chunk of time considering my age, So much has changed and, then again, so much hasn’t. There is somehow a big difference in being a twelve year old writing in her parent’s basement every night after school than being a twenty-two year old writing in her parents basement when she makes the time. There’s more struggle now. More risk.

I am working toward finishing a novel and I’m having to think about what I’m going to do when that happens. It’s a little daunting. There may actually be some action there.

Despite the caution surrounding this area of the future, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Gratitude for having the opportunity to learn from so many industry professionals, both this year and years past; the chance to connect with some wonderfully encouraging writers; and the context to think through what art is in my life and how I engage that as a Christian. I feel so blessed that I have been given the calling that I have and so honored that God reveals himself to me through the written word.

This weekend was full of lovely reminders and great gratitude.

Thank you to everyone who put this lovely time together and for letting me join your motley crew. Thank you for those willing to share what they’ve learned on the journey with grace and encouragement.

I’ve Got a Crush

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World, Writing Thoughts

Confession time:

I’ve had my eyes on a man for a while.

He’s not exactly my type…if I had a type.  Everyone I know has an opinion about him and not all of them are flattering. And I can understand that. He was kind of a scoundrel.

But there’s something in his brashness that speaks to me; fills in what I’m not, you know? He was an adventurer and trouble. The capital T kind. But he was also an artist.

Some would disagree, but I think he understood something about dealing with words that I want to grasp.

So yeah, I have a thing for Ernest Hemingway.

Seriously. The man was a fox.

Don’t judge. Not all of us are Dickens girls. Plus Hemingway is way better on the eyes.

If you’re a nerdy writer, I’m sure you have your own literary crush. Don’t pretend you don’t. There is that person who’s style differs from yours, or you aspire to be them, or their stories just do it for you. Ernest Hemingway is mine.

I read Ernest’s quotes often. (And yes, I call him Ernest because I like to pretend we’re on a first name basis…) Here are some of the gems I’ve treasured:

As a writer, you should not judge, you should understand.

When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.

The first draft of anything is shit.

The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.

Live the full life of the mind, exhilarated by new ideas, intoxicated by the Romance of the unusual. 

When I’m not sure how to make words, I turn to Ernest.

Unlike me, Ernest didn’t dance around a hard scene. He just put it out there. I’m sure he, like any of us, struggled with getting what was put down right, but he didn’t disguise his troubled spots with flowery prose. He didn’t even know what flowery was.

No, he wrestled until what he wanted to say was simple, straightforward. There for the reader to figure out.

When I get stuck, I look to a sketch I keep at my desk made for me by a friend. (Inspired by my tendency to say “Hemingway was a fox,” she drew Ernest’s face on a fox’s body.) I let Fox Hemingway give me a stern look in the eyes.

My job is to tell my story honestly. And I’ve got his blessing for it to be shitty. But I need to put it down because if I don’t, then I’ve got nothing to work with.
And no, my style is not his style, Nor do I want it to be.
But Ernest knew what he was doing. And he’s taught me a bit on how to make the words.
It’s not dancing the night away in Havana with him, but it’s something and I’m a better artist for it.
Who’s your literary crush? Any writers in your world that have helped make you better from beyond the grave?
I’d love to hear about your influences!