Merry Christmas and Happy 2018.
I may be in serious trouble.
My wife is feeling much better than she was in October. Her primary medical problem has been, if not solved, at least mitigated. She went through three Christmases when she couldn't do much of anything. Plus, we went to Colorado last year to spend Christmas with the kids and grandkids.
So this year she's decided to make up for three years of baking and cooking all at once.
She has baked enough cookies, candy, fudge, and brownies to keep me in sugary calories for at least a year. And pies. Can't forget the pies. She just presented me with a big assortment of Christmas candy.
She seems determined to get my weight up to about 220 pounds as soon as possible.
I think she's fattening me up for some alien market. She spends a lot of time watching those cooking shows. Maybe there's a market for porked-up hobby writers. I wonder if they'll want me fileted, roasted in my own fat (which is increasing daily) or throwing me on some alien grill with barbecue sauce.
Of course, I could simply refuse to eat all the...nah!
WARNING: The following contains some specific words regarding sexual anatomy or sexual activity. Please do not read further if you think you'll be offended by the content.
In the meantime, I continue to read and write.
I did not have the time or energy to proceed with any serious writing, but I felt the need to write anyway. I wrote an erotic short story. It is very erotic, but it is also definitely erotica, not pornography. It is the second such story I've written. If anyone wants to read my "filthy writing" you must use the contact page and include your email address to find out where and how.
What's the difference between erotica and pornography? Good question. The difference is a line that is both razor-thin, yet indistinct.
Last year we held an authors' open forum and we're hoping/planning to have another this summer. If my colleagues and the sponsor—the PDC public library—will go along, I want to guide a discussion on the differences and similarities of erotica and pornography, a history of those things in best-selling literature, and perhaps oddly, segue into blocking a scene.
In the interest of research, I'm reading best sellers that fit (maybe) into the categories. When I wanted to read Fifty Shades of Grey, the library didn't have it. I've heard from several people that it was not at all well-written. The library did, though, have Grey, the same story but told in first person by Grey. The author, E.J. Lamb, had written two other books in between, and I found Grey to be decently written. I suppose she learned as she wrote. It is interesting to read the story as told by the male character written by a woman. I may try to read a copy of the original Fifty Shades just to see if it's really that bad.
Grey is, in my estimation, erotica. The sex and the BDSM activity (not that much) are parts of a romantic pursuit. I found nothing disgusting or even grossly pornographic. I found it clever that after Christian takes Anastasia's virginity, and a brief interlude, she giggles and declares she'd like more of the same.
A little while later they take a bath together and he presents her his erection for a blow job. Her performance is excellent and she swallows his ejaculate completely. When he asks her if she's ever done that before, she quite proudly tells him no.
Those little touches—the giggle, the pride in performance, are things that keep the sex erotica and not pornography.
Another best-seller with a reputation was Erica Jong's Fear of Flying, so that's what I'm reading now. So far there is little in it that I would consider either erotica or pornography. I'm barely through the first quarter of the book, if that, but so far it's not especially gripping, though it is clearly written more for a female audience. So far it's about a woman's search for sexual equality. Not the gender equality women are concerned with these days, but the equality to behave sexually just as men did then and be treated with the same respect men were treated.
The novel is written in first person by the character Isadora Zelda White (plus her married name—one of them), a blonde blue-eyed Polish Jew. She is married to Bennett, a tall Chinese/American who never ever suffers from impotence. They make love frequently, but she offers very little detail about their coupling.
She is also trying to commit adultery with Adrian, an Englishman that she finds breathtakingly attractive. Both men are psychoanalysts.
Adrian is, at least for her, a limp dick. One described episode of mutual oral sex (sixty-nine) reveals that even with her best efforts, he can't keep it up. Nor, it seems, at any other time. The irony is not lost on her, but she does not dwell on it. Her husband, whom she loves but no longer finds particularly attractive, physically or emotionally, is a great fuck.
Yet, she longs for Adrian, whom she considers so beautiful she would follow him anywhere-at least sometimes— who is a lousy fuck.
I was reminded, incongruously, of an old Archie comic story. Archie was sharing with someone, probably Jughead, his feelings for Betty and Veronica. The settings for these feelings were shown earlier in the story. Archie says, approximately, "When I'm with Veronica, I long for Betty, who makes me happy. But when I'm with Betty, I long for Veronica, who makes me miserable!"
Isadora seems to find herself with a similar conundrum.
Isadora is admittedly obsessed with her cunt. Unusual, she thinks, as she is the only woman in her family without children and she is as careful as possible to not get any. She relies on a diaphragm (cervical cap) at all times. This was written in 1973. Birth control pills were certainly available then, so why she's not using them is not, so far, explained.
As I've noted, so far there is no "real" pornography or erotica. But when this was written, women did not use that kind of language. So perhaps that was the source of the shocked fascination when it was published.
As I read, I'll keep you informed.
I may be in serious trouble.
My wife is feeling much better than she was in October. Her primary medical problem has been, if not solved, at least mitigated. She went through three Christmases when she couldn't do much of anything. Plus, we went to Colorado last year to spend Christmas with the kids and grandkids.
So this year she's decided to make up for three years of baking and cooking all at once.
She has baked enough cookies, candy, fudge, and brownies to keep me in sugary calories for at least a year. And pies. Can't forget the pies. She just presented me with a big assortment of Christmas candy.
She seems determined to get my weight up to about 220 pounds as soon as possible.
I think she's fattening me up for some alien market. She spends a lot of time watching those cooking shows. Maybe there's a market for porked-up hobby writers. I wonder if they'll want me fileted, roasted in my own fat (which is increasing daily) or throwing me on some alien grill with barbecue sauce.
Of course, I could simply refuse to eat all the...nah!
WARNING: The following contains some specific words regarding sexual anatomy or sexual activity. Please do not read further if you think you'll be offended by the content.
In the meantime, I continue to read and write.
I did not have the time or energy to proceed with any serious writing, but I felt the need to write anyway. I wrote an erotic short story. It is very erotic, but it is also definitely erotica, not pornography. It is the second such story I've written. If anyone wants to read my "filthy writing" you must use the contact page and include your email address to find out where and how.
What's the difference between erotica and pornography? Good question. The difference is a line that is both razor-thin, yet indistinct.
Last year we held an authors' open forum and we're hoping/planning to have another this summer. If my colleagues and the sponsor—the PDC public library—will go along, I want to guide a discussion on the differences and similarities of erotica and pornography, a history of those things in best-selling literature, and perhaps oddly, segue into blocking a scene.
In the interest of research, I'm reading best sellers that fit (maybe) into the categories. When I wanted to read Fifty Shades of Grey, the library didn't have it. I've heard from several people that it was not at all well-written. The library did, though, have Grey, the same story but told in first person by Grey. The author, E.J. Lamb, had written two other books in between, and I found Grey to be decently written. I suppose she learned as she wrote. It is interesting to read the story as told by the male character written by a woman. I may try to read a copy of the original Fifty Shades just to see if it's really that bad.
Grey is, in my estimation, erotica. The sex and the BDSM activity (not that much) are parts of a romantic pursuit. I found nothing disgusting or even grossly pornographic. I found it clever that after Christian takes Anastasia's virginity, and a brief interlude, she giggles and declares she'd like more of the same.
A little while later they take a bath together and he presents her his erection for a blow job. Her performance is excellent and she swallows his ejaculate completely. When he asks her if she's ever done that before, she quite proudly tells him no.
Those little touches—the giggle, the pride in performance, are things that keep the sex erotica and not pornography.
Another best-seller with a reputation was Erica Jong's Fear of Flying, so that's what I'm reading now. So far there is little in it that I would consider either erotica or pornography. I'm barely through the first quarter of the book, if that, but so far it's not especially gripping, though it is clearly written more for a female audience. So far it's about a woman's search for sexual equality. Not the gender equality women are concerned with these days, but the equality to behave sexually just as men did then and be treated with the same respect men were treated.
The novel is written in first person by the character Isadora Zelda White (plus her married name—one of them), a blonde blue-eyed Polish Jew. She is married to Bennett, a tall Chinese/American who never ever suffers from impotence. They make love frequently, but she offers very little detail about their coupling.
She is also trying to commit adultery with Adrian, an Englishman that she finds breathtakingly attractive. Both men are psychoanalysts.
Adrian is, at least for her, a limp dick. One described episode of mutual oral sex (sixty-nine) reveals that even with her best efforts, he can't keep it up. Nor, it seems, at any other time. The irony is not lost on her, but she does not dwell on it. Her husband, whom she loves but no longer finds particularly attractive, physically or emotionally, is a great fuck.
Yet, she longs for Adrian, whom she considers so beautiful she would follow him anywhere-at least sometimes— who is a lousy fuck.
I was reminded, incongruously, of an old Archie comic story. Archie was sharing with someone, probably Jughead, his feelings for Betty and Veronica. The settings for these feelings were shown earlier in the story. Archie says, approximately, "When I'm with Veronica, I long for Betty, who makes me happy. But when I'm with Betty, I long for Veronica, who makes me miserable!"
Isadora seems to find herself with a similar conundrum.
Isadora is admittedly obsessed with her cunt. Unusual, she thinks, as she is the only woman in her family without children and she is as careful as possible to not get any. She relies on a diaphragm (cervical cap) at all times. This was written in 1973. Birth control pills were certainly available then, so why she's not using them is not, so far, explained.
As I've noted, so far there is no "real" pornography or erotica. But when this was written, women did not use that kind of language. So perhaps that was the source of the shocked fascination when it was published.
As I read, I'll keep you informed.
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