I love smart men. I mean ladies, we all know the sexiest part of a man is his brain. Don’t get me wrong, I like eye candy too, but I’ll take a brain over candy any day, all day into the next day.

I have good friend who has a drop dead gorgeous genius sister who likes the eye candy.  My friend noticed that most of her sister’s flavors of the week didn’t talk much.  She asked her sister about this, the sister simply responded, “I’m not dating them to talk.”  Hah!  I guess I can see that point of view, but man meat spoils and once it does, what good is it?

I was watching a documentary on Mel Brooks the other night, and while most of his work I can take or leave, there are several pieces, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Men In Tights to name a few that are comedic genius.  Blazing Saddles insulted everyone and insulted them well. I loved it then, I love it now.

Mel is my kind of man.  He’s hysterical, passionate about his family and his work, and genius. I’d marry him in a New York minute.  That is of course if I wasn’t married to my own hysterical, passionate, genius. ^_~

Mel said two things in one of the interviews that resonated with me to the point of not only looking and thinking about my work differently but actually changing the way I approach my stories and how I write them.  He said, he never performed for an audience, he performed for himself and counted himself lucky that the audience laughed with him.

Kind of like to thine own self be true.

As a writer I have been trained to write with an editor on my shoulder and readers waiting to scrutinize.  It slows down not only my creativity but my actual writing. It makes me question myself when I go outside of the New York box, and in that, I find that what I instinctively want to write is watered down.  I am not amused. Nor am I being true to my true writer self.

The other thing my husband in my next life said that hit me like ice water in the face was, “If you walk up to the bell, you had better damn sight ring it.”   Hell, yes!  Why do all of that work to get there and then wuss out?  Because you’re afraid?  Of what?  Exactly.

So, my dear MSW readers, I am forewarning you all, I no longer write for an editors’ or for readers’ enjoyment, but for mine.  Not only that, but I have not only walked up to the bell, but I’m ringing it so hard and so fast, my ears are ringing along with it.

With a little bit of help from Mel, the dawn of self-publishing has released the Karin Kraken.  I have a fabulous production team in place, a smoking hot bell-ringing series about to release, and all the time in the world to do it my way.

So my question is, for those of you who read self-published books do you find them to be more provocative then traditionally New York published books? And for those who write both traditional published and self-published books, do you find you are more creative with the stories you have complete creative control over?