by JA Huss
Note: I grew up in a home with a mentally ill parent. My mother is a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic who also suffers from bipolar disorder and potentially a whole other raft of issues. Hard to know for sure, as mental illness creates a paradigm in which it’s tough to determine what is an accompanying illness and what is just a fabrication of the prevailing illness. But, my point is that my mother is simply not equipped with enough working tools to make the repairs on herself we would all like for her. And she’s also not really in a position to acquire new tools. So, my whole premise is based on a certain foundational assumption of mental ability and capacity.
But. Even in bringing up the idea of my mom, I can tie it to the concept of hope. Because for years, I hoped that there was some way she would “get better.” Or return to some version of the mother I vaguely remember from when I was very young, before she became recognizably ill.
And the hope that she would drove me fucking crazy.
Because it wasn’t actually hope. It was desire. I desired that she would become different, or function differently, or behave differently. And I desired that because it would make me feel more comfortable. Which is fine, of course. I was a kid and shit. I hadn’t yet worked out all the ways I think about things. But as I became an adult, I still held onto some of the feelings I had about what I wanted until I began to accept that ... it just wasn’t going to work out the way I wanted it to.
And that was when I changed my perception of what I hoped for. I began to hope instead for little things. Like, I hoped that if I got her on the phone on this day, that she would be having a good day, without torment and at peace. Or, hell, forget a good day, even that she would have a good couple of moments. And I hoped this for her, obviously. But I also still hoped it for me. There is a certain level of self-interest that is actually required in being a compassionate person. As they say, “put on your own oxygen mask first before helping others.”
The characters in these books are driven by hope. They don’t realize it of course, but they are. As are we all. If we weren’t, we would just give up. In whatever way you take that to mean: Stop getting out of bed, quit our jobs, commit suicide, whatever. I realize there is an argument to be made that sometimes we just keep moving forward by habit and momentum and there’s no “hope” to be found, but I would argue in return that just because you don’t feel hopeful, doesn’t mean it isn’t baked in.
In the climax of this book, when things look bleak for Tyler and Maddie, ultimately it is their hope that gets them through. That they are saved from death is not the point, it’s that both of them, in that moment, give over to a certain kind of acceptance while at the same time hoping for the outcome they desire. Their acceptance looks different to each of them, but their hope is the unifying force that keeps them going.
In the first book, Sin With Me, there is the sentence, “Fear implies hope.” Tyler thinks that in the first chapter. Meaning, of course, that if you feel afraid it’s due in part to the fact that you are still hopeful that whatever is threatening you won’t harm you, or kill you, or harm or kill someone or something you love. His presumption is that once you’ve given up hope, you no longer have to feel afraid.
But what he hadn’t learned yet is that acceptance and hope are not mutually exclusive. You can accept the reality of a negative circumstance and still remain hopeful that the circumstance can change.
Same goes for Maddie. She struggles in the first couple of books because of how much she’s hoping for a better life. But the struggle isn’t born of the hope, is born of her lack of acceptance of where she is then.
She struggles, he fights, but they are both just hoping for peace. In this book, WE hope we have brought these two that much closer to it.
As for my own hopes, they are many. But as relates to you and me, dear reader (my dear reader), when I took this project on with Julie, I hoped very much that we would wind up making something that might accomplish a couple of things.
1) I wanted to write stories that people would want to read.
2) I wanted to try and say something about the world and our place in it.
It seems to me that romance is kind of the perfect platform to try and achieve both of those goals. Romance readers are, by and large, excited and enthusiastic to get their hands on new stories (if you’ve read this far, presumably you are one of those enthusiastic readers), and stories of love, happiness, and hope are the ones that I’m interested in telling. I realize that what Julie and I are doing with this series is both in keeping with norms of the genre and at the same time somewhat apart from those norms. And I also realize that as a result, we may put off some readers.
But I hope... That anyone who discovers these books will find in them something that is special or identifiable or meaningful.
I hope... That anyone who reads these books will either love them or hate them, because indifference to art is, in my opinion, the greatest of all creative tragedies.
I hope... That, therefore, we have created a reaction in you that is strong and affecting and that stays with you after the last word has been tucked away in that magnificent toolbox you keep inside your head.
I hope... You’ll return with us for the fourth book to see what becomes of Tyler and Maddie as they continue on their journey.
And.
For you...
I hope good deeds, a life as free from suffering as is possible, and kindness and compassion accompany you on your own journey as long and as far as that journey may take you.
Hopefully,
-JM
12 March 2018
We’re three joint EOBS’s in and Johnathan hit this one out of the park, yes? I loved it when he sent it to me. We’d kinda come up with vague idea of doing these on hope and salvation and since his is filled with thoughts about hope, I’ll fill mine with thoughts of salvation. Because that’s really what this book was about.
Maddie was after revenge, and I get it. I think everyone gets it. We’ve all wanted revenge at one time or another in our lives. But I think back on the one time I really did get revenge and how it all happened and… it was really nothing more than karma, ya know?
You reap what you sow. Plain and simple.
I felt vindicated when all was said and done, but I didn’t put anything in motion to get that result. It all just kinda played out.
The desire for revenge usually happens like this:
You decide to trust someone, you let down your guard, you give them the benefit of the doubt and figure since you play by the rules everyone else does too. And then they go and do something really mean, which—and this is the worst part—you weren’t expecting because you trusted them.
So they did something really nasty. Something that just hurt you in your core. And they won. Whatever that prize was they were after (that you HAD, because let’s face it, some people like to take instead of earn), they got it in the end.
Which is what really hurts. That this person you loved, or trusted, or cared for decided you were worth less to them that the object of their desire.
It’s sobering. It’s also debilitating and so this is how revenge pulls you in, right? You think… maybe I can get back what I lost?
But if you lost that thing because they took it from you, then fuck it, right? You earned it once, you can earn it again.
It’s far easier to just let go.
I’d love tell you of my amazing revenge story, but I’m not gonna because the people involved don’t deserve a place in my EOBS.
I will tell you this: It was quite diabolical. But I swear to God, I really had nothing to do with it. It was all karma. So when I finally realized that it actually was revenge, it felt pretty good. But more importantly, it was freeing. Because I didn’t do it on purpose. It kinda made me feel like good triumphs over evil and as long as I stay on my true path, be honest, and do my best—I’d be OK. (Even though in real life, it’s the liars and the cheats who seem to win the most.)
I will tell you this as well—I
think if I let myself go down a path of revenge I’d turn into a really terrible person because I think I’m capable of a lot more than people give me credit for. And not in a good way. I think if I wanted to fuck someone’s life up, I could. Petty fuckin’ bad too. And I’d get away with it. It would all be legal. I’m just kinda twisted like that. So I keep that part of me restrained to book plots.
So Maddie lost something she cared about. Carlos and Logan not only took Pete’s from her, but Pete as well. But on a deeper level what they really took was the tenuous peace she’d found at the strip club and with Pete.
They rocked her world in the worst possible way and she wanted Payback with a capital P.
But I don’t think she got payback at all. I think she got salvation. I think back on my revenge and think I got salvation as well. Because that outcome was the first step in letting go of people who were holding me down and allowed me to move forward.
I think a win every now and then is important. And that’s what Maddie is looking for in this story. She just needed a win. And even though this is cliché, I’m gonna say it anyway. Winning isn’t everything. Winning means you achieved something. Maybe the highest something. But unless your life is over after that win, there’s still more to achieve. Maddie made some dubious choices, for sure. But not because of the devil on her shoulder. Just because she was lost. And that’s what the next, and final book, is about. Maddie and Tyler finding their peace.
Also, and this is the true point of this EOBS, salvation comes from forgiveness.
Maddie didn’t need to forgive Carlos or Logan, so that wasn’t her problem. Yeah, they were assholes and they did bad things but they weren’t dragging her down, she was dragging herself down. So she needed to forgive herself, not them.
And once you can forgive yourself for not being perfect it’s like a whole new world opens up. Because once you let go of the idea that you have to be perfect you allow yourself to make mistakes. And when you allow yourself to make mistakes you learn things.
I wrote a blog post about “imposter syndrome” last December. It was part of my Top Five Tips for Authors that I was doing on my website. And I said in that post that I’ve never felt like an imposter as a fiction writer even though I have no training. I never took a writing class and even though I have two college degrees, they are in science, not writing, or English, or literature.
But before I wrote fiction I wrote non-fiction. And that was all science stuff, which is my thing, right?
It was workbooks for kids on things like anatomy, and physics, and the lifecycle of a butterfly. And when I wrote that stuff—interestingly enough—I did feel like an imposter. Even though I had two science degrees and one of them was a masters. So when I’d publish these (I was self-published, even back then) I’d be so stressed about making typos because I would be judged.
I didn’t have an editor—there was no way I could afford an editor back then—so everything that went out was all on me. It felt like a reflection on me as a person, and my brain too, because it was non-fiction, so I was being judged on my actual knowledge. On what I knew of the natural world.
And every once in a while I’d find a typo after I published and it would stress me out pretty bad. I’d feel stupid and small and quickly fix it before anyone noticed and sent me an email telling me I needed an editor.
But after a while I realized—ya know what? I’m not fuckin’ Scholastic. OK? I’m not some big textbook company. I’m a fuckin’ single mom working from home just trying to pay by bills. And once I cut myself some slack and allowed myself to be imperfect, I felt a whole lot better about things. I did better work. Letting go of the imposter feeling and allowing myself to make typos in a finished product actually led to me making better courses and spend that time learning new things.
So by the time I got to writing fiction most of that imposter bullshit was in the past. I know I have some typos in my books. Maybe not this series (Johnathan is much better at finding typos than I am) but in my solo books they’re there. I have an editor and I have proofers… but again, I’m not Random House. I’m not Simon and Schuster. I’m not HarperCollins. I’m JA Huss. Just one person, sitting out here in the middle of nowhere Colorado, doing my thing.
I do my best to catch all the typos, but I choose to spend my time writing stories instead of pretending I’m perfect. And I think that’s part of my success to be honest. What good are perfectly spelled words if the story sucks?
I have never felt like an imposter as a storyteller because I don’t think storytelling and editing have much to do with each other. Yes, everyone wants a clean manuscript, but there’s an acceptable level of imperfection allowed in my work and that’s all there is to it.
So back to Maddie and her issues. :)
The other half of her problem was that she attributed all her failures to herself. She blamed herself for everything, when in truth, sometimes things just happen. Both bad and good. Sometimes shit just happens and there’s nothing you can do about it except roll with the punches.
Sure she has to take some responsibility, but when you blame yourself for all the bad things in life you miss out on the bigger picture.
Which is… you are here to learn something. Something about yourself, something about people, or about the world around you. And you can do that a million different ways. You can help people, you can go to school, you can be a teacher, you can become a doctor, you can become a scientist, you can write books, you can raise kids, you can care for your elderly parents, you can cook new things, you can go new places, you can take pictures, or draw, or play music, or make jokes, or analyze movies, or be a motivational speaker, or hell, drive a different fuckin’ way to work every week. There’s an endless number of ways to learn.
But the best way to learn is to make mistakes. I think back on my success and you know what I remember most? All the times I fucked it up. And you know why I remember those the times the best? Because in fucking up I learned something new. How to do better next time, hopefully. But also that there is a next time. I think back on my biggest successes in books and I have no clue WHY those books sold so well. Like… none.
But you know what I remember about the books that didn’t sell well?
All the mistakes I made. So I could try and fix them the next time.
And in making mistakes and fixing things you realize who you are as a person. You cultivate a story about what it means to be YOU, what you want, and how to get there.
Which was how Maddie saved herself. This book was all about accepting herself for who she is and allowing herself to move forward. It wasn’t about kicking Logan’s ass and taking Carlos down. It wasn’t about allowing Tyler back into her life. It wasn’t her quest for the perfect business.
It was her quest for SELF that saved her. What it actually meant to be Maddie Clayton. That’s why she agreed to put herself in danger.
She didn’t do it for revenge. She did it because she couldn’t live with herself if she looked the other way and left the mess for someone else to clean up later.
Taking responsibility for something you don’t have to, but NEED to, and forgiving yourself for the mistakes you’ve made is what leads to salvation.
She learned she had limits, she had courage, and she had convictions.
And she came to understand the most important lesson of all…
It not the typos that define you.
It’s the story.
JA Huss
3-19-18
GET THE LAST BOOK, Passion Rising, HERE
Johnathan and I would like to thank all of you for reading our third book together. We hope you enjoy it just as much as all the books I wrote alone. Actually, we hope you like this better. :)
And if you’ve got a minute, and you liked the world we created, and the story we told, and the characters we gave life to… then please consider leaving us a review online where you purchased the book.
We are not traditionally published – WE ARE INDIE.
&nb
sp; And we rely on reviews and word-of-mouth buzz to get our books out there. So tell a friend about it if you have a chance. We’d really appreciate that.
Much love,
Julie & Johnathan
www.HussMcClain.com
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Johnathan McClain’s career as a writer and actor spans 25 years and covers the worlds of theatre, film, and television. At the age of 21, Johnathan moved to Chicago where he wrote and began performing his critically acclaimed one-man show, Like It Is. The Chicago Reader proclaimed, “If we’re ever to return to a day when theatre matters, we’ll need a few hundred more artists with McClain’s vision and courage.” On the heels of its critical and commercial success, the show subsequently moved to New York where Johnathan was compared favorably to solo performance visionaries such as Eric Bogosian, John Leguizamo, and Anna Deavere Smith.
Johnathan lived for many years in New York, and his work there includes appearing Off-Broadway in the original cast of Jonathan Tolins’ The Last Sunday In June at The Century Center, as well as at Lincoln Center Theatre and with the Lincoln Center Director’s Lab. Around the country, he has been seen on stage at South Coast Repertory, The American Conservatory Theatre, Florida Stage, Paper Mill Playhouse, and the National Jewish Theatre. Los Angeles stage credits are numerous and include the LA Weekly Award nominated world premiere of Cold/Tender at The Theatre @ Boston Court and the LA Times’ Critic’s Choice production of The Glass Menagerie at The Colony Theatre for which Johnathan received a Garland Award for his portrayal of Jim O’Connor.
