Monday, July 26, 2010

Hey, geeks -

Fucking machines: Human Computer Erotic Interaction? Mmhm, there's a call for papers here.

Meanwhile, I'm just about to get my free read of Jeremy Edward's story from 'Spark my moment'. Jeremy's a fabulously witty eroticist with the lightest of touches, and his lovely lyrical stories are just what I need after a day dealing with the tax office ...

Today I am also facing my fear of dialogue and laughing in its face. I hope if I am brave I will vanquish the heeby jeebies and become much better at patter.

"Take that, you febrile hound!"

See, it's working already.

Of all my writing fears, I think dialogue tops the list. What are your writing phobias? What are you hiding (from) behind that page of text?

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The 'Othering' of pornography

A fascinating and in depth essay/article on porn and porn users.

'[P]ornography in particular is seen as ‘the lowest of the cultural low’, worse than the National Enquirer or Elvis paintings on velvet, ‘the nadir of culture’'.

Well, I have to say the view from the nadir is not bad.

I vacillate between feeling happy in Eroticaland and feeling that I should be somewhere else. Lately I've been wondering if the secret is that Eroticaland is not a country with borders, different to other Booklands, but just another region of Bookworld. Or maybe even just one way of looking at humans/the world.

Donna George Storey's fabulous erotic story John Updike made me do it is up at Clean Sheets, showing how a story can be literate, thoughtful and horny, all at once.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

It's a dirty job

I have various answers when people ask what I do for work, ranging across the spectrum of honesty/respectability from 'writing' to 'fiction' to 'erotica' to 'porn'.

This weekend I was away with a group of people I don't know, and someone asked the usual question, and I said - because she seemed a nice, open kind of woman - 'erotic fiction'. Woah! She shrieked with laughter and her whole face lit up.

How lovely it seems to cheer someone up just by telling them what you do.

Maybe that's the best response you could get. (It certainly beats the sleazy/sneery response, which is my least personal favourite.)

'I've written a whole bookful of racy stories, in my head', said her friend, with a big dreamy smile.

: )

Friday, July 16, 2010

Gingerbread house

I'm not quite sure how, but *somehow* I managed to write and edit and submit the first story I've written in about a year. Phew, and again, phew!

It seems when you've got offspring it's always a choice. Something's got to give, and this week it was the housework. Ah well.

I've always been what my mother and stepmother call a slut - in the original sense of the word (I think). I mean, I've slept on bare mattresses in a friend's hall next to cat litter boxes. I remember it started to rain one night and I lay there with cold water dripping onto my face and the stench of cat piss in the air, and thought I must be somewhere in the vicinity of rock bottom.

But since J turned up somehow keeping the home clean makes it feel less like I'm being submerged in an inexorable avalanche of dirty laundry, cat litter, mashed up food and wet towels. Where did it all come from, all this stuff? I thought I was a young, bohemian artist. Turns out I was a middle-aged housewife with a double chin and a bottle of bleach in the cupboard, all along.

Or maybe I just aged ten years overnight. That happens in fairy tales, too.

Everything changes, but it seems there will always be cat litter somewhere in the picture.


Monday, July 12, 2010

Working!

Yes! Although right now the0 bbaby is 0 ... helping.

I've just finished the first draft of a story - the first since over seven months ago. Bit rusty, no doubt. Still, it's good to be back. Witchy 1950s, yeeha!

Thursday, July 08, 2010

Facebox

I don't know why, when I don't have time to write, let alone blog, let alone update a second facebox, that I have done this. But I have. Perhaps it's the thought that I might be able to split into two different people and then I will have time to do all the things I wish and also be a good mother.

Anyway, here I am on Facebook, friend me if you're there too!

I'm also wishing that I could buy the audio version of Alison's Wonderland, which seems to only be available in the US at the moment. Bargain price for you statesiders, too. The preview (um, prelisten?) sounds wonderful.

Edited: Excuse my ineptitude. Maybe this link will work?

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Magic words


Of course life isn't like a fairy tale. Of *course* not ...


And just because I've driven past a little shop in the local village a hundred times and never seen it before, doesn't mean magic is afoot. Nor does it mean anything that it's called 'Wonderland'. Nn-nh. Coincidence! Pure coincidence.

: )


(Thanks to baby J for arranging his blocks to complete the picture. I think he ate the other 'S'. And he doesn't have any apostrophes)

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Friday, July 02, 2010

Writing what you don't know?





Today someone left a comment on Alana Noel Voth's interview.

'Women should not be writing gay and bisexual men's erotic fiction.'

It was, unfortunately, anonymous, so I'm responding into the ether. That's a shame, as I think it would be nice to be able to discuss this - well, if not face-to-face, then at least with some feeling of reciprocation. Anyway. I'd be really happy if you would come back and elaborate on your point, anon - or if anyone else would like to chime in on this.

Personally, I don't write much if any 'gay and bisexual men's erotic fiction.' Per se. I've written stories that include gay and bisexual men, perhaps some in an erotic context - I can't honestly remember right now because I've written a lot of characters.

You may think that means I'm not involved in this question, or that my opinion is irrelevant.

But for one, this is mah blog. And also I'd say that the very most wonderful thing about fiction is that everyone is involved, or at least can be.

Can fiction actually ever belong to anyone? Is it really possible to restrict not only the authorship but also the readership of certain writing?


'Imagining what it is like to be someone other than yourself is at the core of our humanity. It is the essence of compassion, and it is the beginning of morality.'
- Ian McEwan, in an interview


I thought a lot about this and then I remembered that - before they committed a bizarre act of publishing hara kiri, Black Lace (my publishers) were of course an imprint 'by women and for women' - so, they restricted - attempted to restrict - authorship as well as readership. Although everybody knew that men read BL books but nobody said.

I also remember our long and tumultuous arguments on Lustbites about this very issue. The necessity for a restricted authorship policy.

The thing is, there is a slight difference between having some calls/imprints/publishers with restricted authorship* requirements, and deciding that no woman/man/centaur should ever even dare to try and write womens'/mens'/centaurs' fiction. I can fully appreciate that some groups wish to keep an enclave of their own - a private space, in some sense. Although that's a bit spurious because publishing is by nature kind of flinging open the doors to your psyche and inviting the world in.

Anon, I want to know - what is it you wish for? You can't restrict what someone else finds arousing, surely that must be most humdingerly and gloriously evident?

Oh hell can't we all just get along in a lovely filthy muddle without our cocks [or lack thereof] getting in the way?


*is authorship a word? Forgive me, I've not had much sleep.