Monday, October 22, 2007

Cover to cover



Above, the cover for Best New Erotica 07, which I'm still very chuffed to have a story in. (Undercover, first published at Clean Sheets.) Out later this year, I think.

Meanwhile, forgive the infrequent and taciturn entries here.

I'm struck dumb, lately, more and more. Writing, yes, but it's as though the constant chittering of my head won't spill out my mouth, only my fingers. Only in fiction. I worry at a problem, an issue, an opinion, until I agree with every damn side and any verdict is meaningless. I don't know what I think about anything any more. Apart from that I think PJ Harvey is my favourite musician. Yes. And that I can't stop eating artichokes in oil.

So anyway, instead of thinking I'm writing. I think this is positive. Unfortunate that's there's even less certainty in writing - like stepping on wet stones, slipping and falling every hundred words. I'm training myself to suspend disbelief long enough to finish a story before the swarms of doubt and implication gather and cloud the air and obstruct what I was trying to see (- a ludicrous story about dentists and old ladies with binoculars, for fuck's sake, it's not Tolstoy) or at least ride with the uncertainties. Surfing the tangents. Something.


Next cover:



- includes 'The Art of Fucking', from Sex with Strangers, Black Lace. And the mysterious floating black bra of doom, apparently.



Actually maybe Mark E Smith is my favourite musician. Or Lou Reed. Do you think a jar of artichokes a day could be bad for you?

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The Elephant in the Room



Work in progress:

I've been working on a story for the Birth Rites exhibition. It's a story from the point of view of a new father - in three parts. Conception, pregnancy, birth. (In this story the sex is the starter, rather than the main course - it's been an interesting exercise.)

Otherwise, I've been making a lot of false starts. I wonder how many unfinished stories lie around gathering dust in writers' drawers.

I should rephrase that.

In any case, I currently have about half a dozen beginnings and no middles or ends.

Meanwhile, here's a fascinating article about writing by Monica Ali.

And a short excerpt from 'The Elephant in the Room', first draft:




"Hot flesh at her throat. The smell of her like bubblegum and brandy. He held her face in his hands and felt the jaw, the fine, breakable bones. The radio sighed along with them, playing one of a thousand cheap love songs complete with harmonies and heart-aching melody. The word love is just background noise, he thought, as his fingers slid down the dip of her back to where heat collected in a hollow.
Her perfume stung him like the vapour that rises off the pages of a new magazine. Something might have roused his suspicions in the silk and the smiles and the perfume, only it was what he expected, somewhere in the region of his balls and his animal glands, and instead he smiled - a fruit machine coming up suddenly with a full row of cherries.
They sank against the couch. Time got wet and elastic. He put her down onto the leather, felt his body align and his cock straighten out. The needle of the compass swung round this direction again and again. Hormones met hormones, buzzed so loud they drowned out reason. He drank in her mouth. All the flesh of his mind was swollen and the pressure thumped like a bass drum.
Legs scissored. Spread open. He was pulled then, with some sweet and dark force as natural as breathing, closer. Zips and clothes and elbows got pushed aside, these two sweating flowers crushed up against each other, naked together, skin on skin, seeking out the darkest, hottest, wettest spots. His toes scrabbled on the carpet, struggling for purchase, angling him forward so that he was held right at the lip of her.

Driving home, spilling upwards.

- There, she said, and
– please.

So he did please her. Fucked her with no such thing as a conscience, only a rising orchestra of blood and breath and electrical impulse. He was thinking nothing beyond friction, knowing nothing in those frantic few minutes other than his body, the point of it, and hers, the hungry raging suck of it. The bullseye, the hidden target that he could hit with his eyes shut. A sweet siren calling to him with a voice he didn’t hear, only smelt somehow with his fingertips."


Copyright me, 2007.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

F for Fetish review

This month, Ashley Lister at the Erotica Readers & Writers Association reviews F for Fetish, from Cleis Press, edited by Alison Tyler.

My story 'Hair Trigger' gets a lovely mention...

Here's the blurb:

'Nikki Magennis, with Hair Trigger, paints a darkly seductive story of an obsession with hair and its associated rituals. This is a powerful story. Nikki has a gift for saying a hell of a lot with an almost minimalist number of words. Hair Trigger introduces a fetish relationship from its climactic beginning through to its cataclysmic denouement. The description is rich and colourful and the power is superbly strong.'

Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!

Ashley also notes Shanna Germain's wonderful finger fetish story:

'Knuckling Under is no exception to Shanna's stylish fiction and she shows that, in the hands of a skilled erotic fiction writer, the flat tyre on a bicycle can lead to the sauciest sexual shenanigans.'

...click the link to read other good things about this lovely little book!

Monday, October 01, 2007

Autumn?


So soon?

My word. I've been all tied up with dying computers and holidays lately, so I've had a web-fast for a few weeks. I've missed all the writing chat, but also it's given me some nice head-space to develop stories and other things.

Writing news - I'm delighted to say my story 'Exes and Whys' should* be appearing in J for Jealousy - edited by the lovely Alison Tyler. It's a kind of twisty dark piece about lovers ex-girlfriends, a mix of burny sex and burny hate. *(Subject to the publisher's final say)

Otherwise, I'm working on...

A Kama Sutra story - The Thunderbolt

The Elephant in the Room - a story about conception, pregnancy and birth

The sound of one hand clapping - a kind of zennish spanking story

Plus the usual mix of odd and involved projects, including what will hopefully be a website - soon!