On getting a very nice review

Yesterday, thanks to Emerald, I got to read this really nice review (of Suite Encounters: Hotel Sex Stories) at Erotica Revealed. She (Em) wanted me to see this because the reviewer, Nathan Burgoine, said some especially nice words about my story, "Return to the Nonchalant Inn."

On a completely different note, “Return to the Nonchalant Inn” by Erobintica was a lovely piece with a man and a woman reminiscing on the erotic adventures of their youth – but from a vantage point of an older, wiser – and still sexually heated – perspective. I think the inclusion of this story, with a woman confident and content in her mature body, was an absolute win for the collection – and a very strong reminder that eroticism doesn’t die with the passing of years.

I've been reading that over and over again. And at times it makes me choke up. I'm 54. Not getting any younger. And as I said in my last post, I was afraid "Erobintica" was fading away. Yeah, in a way I think I've been mourning some lost youth that I never really had, because back then, I was not wiser and I sure as hell wasn't confident, or even content in my younger body. But these past few years, Erobintica has been a journey for me. And I'm learning something new about myself every day. Sometimes I like what I learn, sometimes I don't.

Or more exactly, I don't like some things about me, even though they may be crucial to who I am. Who I will be happy as. When you deny parts of yourself, you shut yourself off from being "confident and content." I've always been worried about what people (those amorphous "people") would think and worried that those who mean a lot to me wouldn't like who I am (or want to become). But that kind of worrying and thinking is so fucking self-limiting, that it was almost as if a sign from Eros, that I saw this posted on Facebook the other day. I saved it on my desktop and even printed it out so I can glance at it often:

I've always admired that in other people. Maybe it's time to try it on for myself.

A month come and gone

I haven't been here since April. Blogger has a new look since the last time I logged in and posted anything. I almost couldn't, because I had to change stuff since Google is so all-tentacled now and I've been around on Blogger since before those days. Not with this blog, but another old one. For a moment I was afraid I couldn't get into my own blog to post!

We have been very busy with getting our house ready to put on the market. We want to move to Maine once it's sold. But we've been in it for more than 18 years and it's a lot of work. We missed our aimed-for date of March. Then April went by. Then May. Now it's June and we still have work to do. I've neglected my writing as well as [obviously] my blogging. Time to remedy that. Beware, the next paragraph will have lots of links.

Yesterday I traveled into New York City to attend a reading at Bluestockings for Kristina Wright's just-released Lustfully Ever After. I met Emerald (who was reading) and Tess Danesi in Grand Central and we had a wonderful dinner together at Noodle Bar. Then we walked the couple blocks to the bookstore where we met Sacchi Green and Michelle Augello-Page (both reading) out front. Inside was Kristina, and it was wonderful to finally get to meet her in person. Then Jeremy Edwards and Helia Brookes showed up. The reading was wonderful, and afterwards we wandered around finding a place that could seat our group. We ended up at Sauce, and had some delicious food, desserts, and wine.

Riding the train home, I realized how nourishing the evening had been for my writer-self. I've been so focused on doing stuff to the house–packing, cleaning, painting, refinishing, "staging"–that I've not allowed myself to go to that writerspace and that I've missed it. Sitting at the computer typing words, or scratching in a notebook often don't seem as important as taking another load to the storage unit or painting more window trim. But I realized that one of these days, hopefully soon, this house will be sold. And that writer-self needs to still be here. I do believe that if you don't use it, you lose it, mainly because I've seen it to be true. I need to use my writer muscles more. So, I'm going to try to blog more regularly, and not think of writing as something to do when...

So thanks to those wonderful folks last night. The connections I've made–no, change that to the friends I've made–through this online world of erotica authors, mean a lot to me. And here I sit, looking at all these words I've quickly written and I'm thinking "yeah, I need to do this more."

Going "Adult Content"

Yeah, I've decided to go with Blogger's "Adult Content" warning page, despite my not liking the idea, because of what I read here (about Google + and Google's NSFW issues). I am wanting my Erobintica blog to loosen up a bit, and I realized that fear of being shut out of here has kept me from doing that. Hence, not many posts of late.

So, yeah, I'm sorta pissed at myself for capitulating. I remember back when Alison Tyler had her blog reported and she put up the warning page and a bunch of other erotica folks did the same. At the time I wasn't being very daring in my blog, so I stayed open. But we seem to be going through another period of sexual hysteria (Emerald has a good Recommended Reading post on it here), and since I want to promote some stuff (announcement coming), without having to censor myself, I'm going to go behind the Content Warning door.

A lot to say, Part 2

In the week since my last blog post (A lot to say, Part 1), I've read several things that have moved me and made me think. I finished up that post talking about how I'm still hesitant to be completely open about what I think of as my Erobintica work.

For instance: When I post something new here, I don't automatically  post a link to my Facebook page. Oh, I have at times when I've been posting poems, but when I'm writing real introspective stuff, especially if it has to do with sexual stuff, I don't tend to post those links. Why? I mean, I'm writing it here, for anybody with an internet connection and the ability to search to find. If you search for "euphemisms for sucking dick," or "cock" for that matter, I am the top result with this post. In an odd way, I'm rather proud of that.

But I don't go about boasting about it (well, except here) and I sometimes (often?) worry what people will think if they find out. I've yet to have a very bad reaction from someone, surprise yes, but I've yet to had to deal with outrage, or anything close. But I'm sure the day will come. And what will I do then? And why the hell do I worry about it so much??? I worry because I've seen what has been said about other women who have written (or spoken) openly about sexuality and I feel like I need to have the courage of my convictions before I go spouting off (to put it bluntly). As such, I'm a work-in-progress. But I also believe that nobody is truly ready for trouble, and I'm not getting any younger, so, what am I waiting for?

Last week, in the comments on Part 1, Emerald linked to an article by Dr. Marty Klein titled Censorship and the Fear of Sexuality.  (Other cultures too, but that's not the point of this.) The article starts out with this:

"Most Americans don't want to discuss sexual issues rationally. Their sexuality poisoned by the culture, they just want their emotional pain taken away. To people afraid of sexuality, censorship looks attractive."

When I read this I thought of the book "Pornland" by Gail Dines (not linking on purpose). I've started reading it as part of an attempt to understand how this fear manifests in others. I wrote a little bit about my own thoughts on the porn thing back in March when I reviewed Erika Lust's "Good Porn" and got to interview her. Don't want to go off on that tangent right now.

Something else that Marty Klein said that I found intriguing was this:

"Because we live in a sex-negative culture, many people want eroticism kept private throughout society. This is their social policy response to their individual discomfort, similar to institutionalizing personal racism via the social policy of apartheid."

I've always wondered why I was vaguely bothered by the whole "TMI" response of people when someone reveals something about themselves that has to do with what I think of as bodily sexuality. Why is that too much information? Why is something that is so crucial to who we are as sexual human beings assumed to be something that shouldn't be shared?

When I write erotica, even as fiction, I am sharing a part of myself, sexually, with the reader. I can't help it. In order to write what I do, I have to think it first. And I'm thinking it because it turns me on. And while I have written vanilla, heteronormative, married characters erotica (back when just the act of writing down sexual thoughts felt transgressive to me), that's not what pushes my buttons and not really what I want to write these days.

So, should I, or other erotica authors keep these thoughts, these "stories" private, not share them, because they make someone uncomfortable? I talk about "eroticaland" and the folks I've met here fairly often. But right there I can see Klein's "aparteid" comment in action. This is the whole genre vs. literary fiction thing, but with the extra twist of private vs. public sex (which Klein talks about).

And I'm not just talking about fiction. I'm also writing personal essays (which my blog is mostly made up of if you think about it), and in those there's no hiding behind the "it's only a story."

It's almost midnight. I have lots to do tomorrow, so I'm going to stop here for now. But I'll be back with Part 3, in which I delve more into what Marty Klein wrote in this article.

A lot to say, Part 1

It's been more than a month since I've posted anything here and I decided I better get my ass in gear and post something for June! This post will probably jump around all over the place, so fasten your seat belts!

Today I clicked on the the "yes, mobile template" button so that folks looking at my blog from a mobile device can hopefully read it easier, and so maybe more will read. Of course, I have to write something for there to be something to read, so I hope to remedy the lack of updates with various odd postings. If you are reading this on a mobile device and have read here before without the new fancy schmancy mobile template, I'd appreciate hearing if it made a difference or not.

This past Saturday (June 25), I read a few of my poems at Essensuality in NYC. Billed as "An Evening of Erotic Expression," this series run by Monica Day, is a wonderful venue for material that might not be appropriate to share at a "regular" reading venue.  I appreciate venues like this, and The Erotic Literary Salon (run by Susana Mayer, a friend of Monica's, in Philadelphia), where I've read before, because I get to read the poems that I don't do otherwise, like this one. I'll talk a bit about why in a minute.

I'd attended Essensuality once before, back in March when Jeremy Edwards was a featured performer. Then, and again this month, the evening is a smorgasbord of erotic performances, including music, dance,  poetry, fiction, memoir, skits, and more. It truly is an OPEN mike.

Which brings me back to why I don't read some of my poems for ... how should I put this? ... general audiences. I know that poems that erotically use the words cunt and cock in them would not go over with everyone (emphasis on everyone) at a plain old poetry reading. I am NOT in this for the shock value. Also, I am chicken. At venues like Essensuality and The Erotic Literary Salon, people are there expecting to hear stuff like that. *And if not, they make a quick exit. My hope is that someday, after reading enough times at venues like these, that I'll become more comfortable reading these sorts of works. Anyhow. It was a good evening. I think my friend enjoyed it. I'll be back next time (in September) when Emerald is scheduled to be a feature.

*****

One thing I've been dealing with over the past several years (at least) is how it feels to me that society in general STILL thinks that any and all expressions of our real sexuality should be kept behind closed doors, under the covers, and in the dark. I hear it in off-hand comments from friends, relatives, and acquaintances. I hear it in commentary from various self-proclaimed pundits. I heard a lot of it with the recent twitpic media frenzy. And all that reinforces the shame that I've been fighting against for way longer. It manifests in small ways.

For the past several months I've been working to revamp my personal website, the one for the "writer" me. For a few years, there was no linkage between there and here. Then there was a covert link on a crowded page. That page is gone now (too many broken links). My new site is going to fully meld all my various and diverse writing activities. It will link to this blog, and others. It will link to any poems I can link to. It will have video of my readings, including the one at The Erotic Literary Salon. 

I've been having a hard time with this. Working very slowly. Part of the reason is that while I want to be completely open about the Erobintica side of me (as I put it), I still am a little hesitant.

Why? Well, I'd keep going, but it's evening and we're going to watch the special features disc from Pan's Labyrinth tonight and I have to be up very early tomorrow. So I'm going to post this and come back to it - hopefully tomorrow afternoon.

And so it goes

It's been awhile since I did a blog post here. I've been working on various other projects, submitting work, getting accepted, getting rejected. Business as usual. Also procrastinating.

Last week I held off on announcing the inclusion of my one of my flash fiction pieces, Strands of Imagination, in a new publication, The Other Dance. This short piece was paired up with a lovely erotic watercolor by artist Rod MacIver. The reason I held off was two-fold: 1) I wanted to find out if I could use some art on my post and 2) I just was busy enough to not get around to it.

Now, less than a week after my piece went out (it was a newsletter form of publication, with works supposed to be archived at the site), The Other Dance, as well as the erotic art site, Wild Artist Erotica, is closed (that link is to the notice of closure). Luckily I took a screen shot of my work and bio before it disappeared in the ether.

But the saddest part of all this is that Emerald had been hired to be the editor of this and she was so excited (and a bit nervous as well) about this endeavor. It's been hard watching a friend get tossed on the waves like this. Emerald had written a lovely post announcing this, as well as one today explaining the sudden closure. There's not much more I can add.

While I'm saddened that my work, and the lovely art it was paired with, is no longer accessible, I find that I'm taking this in stride. I do believe that at some level, the societal shame that surrounds the erotic had a hand in this. At least that's what I read between the lines at the closure statement.

But this has just made me more intent on getting going on a project that I've been mulling for quite some time. So, watch for an announcement, hopefully within the next month. Also, I'm more committed than ever to my erotic writing. I've said it before and I'll say it again, and again, and again.

Fuck Shame!

So what was that?

Yesterday's e[lust] post was something new - for me. I'd submitted my "Inspired by MomentumCon" blog post to be included in that e[lust] edition, and in exchange, I post the edition on my blog. There's enough links there to keep me in reading material for quite some time!

I was alerted to the call for MomentumCon blog posts by Emerald (who also has a post included). I may occasionally send appropriate blog posts to e[lust] in the future. I don't really have a "plan" for my blog, not even sure I have a direction I'm going in. I'd like to have more folks reading, but I also don't want to ignore my other writing in order to do blog posts. It's a dilemma.

Anyhow, I need to try and focus on some writing this week. Yesterday I got a rejection (albeit a nice one) and it's something I sent last minute, which I've been tending to do. I need to stop that and get stuff out much sooner. So, that's what I'm gonna do. But still, there's deadlines looming which I don't want to let pass. It's almost more important to me that I actually submit something than get anything accepted. If that makes sense.

Falling in love

with your characters, that is. Has that happened to you? That happened to me with this last story I wrote, and it was a problem of sorts.

I'd struggled with this story from the very beginning. I had an idea, inspired by a trip to an art museum. There is an exhibit of women artists in their permanent collection and some of the works especially moved me. My mother was an artist, albeit a frustrated one (long story not-for-here), and so I've always been drawn to stories (and movies) about artists. One of my characters is an artist.

I started the story, but then was interrupted by about 36 hours when I couldn't work on it at all. When I came back to it, I found that my characters started becoming more than I'd intended. As I wrote, I started to get lost in them. And I found myself falling in love. Which I don't do easily, in real life or on the page. I tend to be a bit cynical and untrusting, as well as quite insecure.

Now, from talking with other writers, having your characters move in their own direction is not all that uncommon. And this wouldn't have been a problem, except I had a deadline to meet, and they just weren't cooperating! So I found myself very disappointed with my story. In fact I almost chucked it yesterday morning as I tried to finish it. Because my characters did not want to be finished.

But thank eros for that deadline, because I'd promised Shanna that I would get a story to her, and so my not-wanting-to-let-someone-down forced me to commit myself to submitting SOMETHING. But I wasn't all too happy with this something (see "insecure" above). So I sent the story to Emerald to read over, and she made such a wonderful comment about my characters, that I squeezed past my insecurity to hit send and get my submission in before the deadline.

Afterwards, I sent the story to my husband to read. He's a professional editor, and you'd think I'd want him to have a look before I sent my story, but that would make sense, wouldn't it? No, because of my insecurity (yeah, that again), his comments can send me over the deep end. I have a story that I wrote a few years back and gave him to edit and I've yet to be able to go in and make revisions without feeling like the whole piece is a big pile of crap and shouldn't be inflicted on anyone.

When he gave me some feedback (when I got home from a poetry event I'd gone to in the evening), I found myself feeling very defensive. He'd wanted more, and well, I had too. But my characters weren't having it. He also had some problems with some tense changes and while I was tempted to pull it up on my screen and having him point out "problems," I realized I'd already submitted it and so it was out of my hands for  now. A couple of times during the "conversation" I was on the verge of tears. I get pretty emotionally invested in my writing.

It's not that I want undeserved praise, it's just that sometimes I feel like what people are telling me is "do it differently - do it my way" and even if I think they're right, the stubborn little writer in me gets to feet-stomping. no no no!

But my husband also complimented my characters. And I realized something. The reason I'd fallen in love with them was because they were "real" in the sense that they had that whatever-it-is that makes you love a character. And that the reason I had such a hell of a time finishing the story, was because I didn't want to leave them. Didn't want to say goodbye. But you know what? I don't have to.

A few things to read

Today I'm just going to post some links to stuff I've read lately that either I enjoyed or got me thinking.

Just read a few minutes ago, so of course it's first: Every Time You Orgasm, An Angel Gets It's Wings by Heidi Anderson over at Good Vibrations Magazine. Thank you to Emerald, who linked to this in her wonderful Recommended Reading series (every Wednesday) at her blog The Green Light District.

This wonderful post, Brainstorming, over at Sharazade's blog.  How would you handle being outed as an erotica writer? Assuming you did not necessarily want to be outed.

A lovely rant from Janine Ashbless; Family Matters. I just loved this:

"spends his whole screen time submitting patiently to the impossible demands of her ridiculous tribe of relatives, because he loves her sooo much ... and I just thought, 'Oh, for fuck's sake grow a pair.' "

How men's and women's sexuality is alike. Emily Nagoski ::sex nerd:: both alike in dignity.

Another wonderful rant. The Vegetarian Cannibal watches a film and wonders 'when did "bisexuality" become such a dirty word?' Puccini for beginners (Rant).

Okay, that's probably enough to keep ya busy the rest of the night.

Waiting for thoughts to form

Waiting by Randy Lagana

Today I posted a "Naughty Librarian" post over at We Who Are About To Die. A couple of the links there are to stuff that I just like; a post from Gina Marie and the Sex+Design site I linked to from here yesterday, as well as a couple of other links that I'll talk more about in a few days.

I also linked to a post by Alana Noel Voth that made me think. She mentioned Emerald's blog, and how she admired Em and "what a responsibility it is...to vocalize your opinions regarding sexuality in the face of a culture like ours: a mixed bag of prudes and perverts."

And I want to say something about that, but the thoughts aren't fully formed.

Despite blogging here for a couple of years as "Erobintica,"
despite becoming somewhat "known" for my erotic poetry (SEAF and doing my first out-of-state reading, which is on video and I hope to post it here soon),
despite baring my soul (and more) at F-Stop: The Naked I,
despite being the "Naughty Librarian" and getting noticed for that,
despite getting no negative feedback on my "erotica" activities from people I know (the closest has been some "surprise" from a few folks),
despite all that,

I'm still scared shitless to really speak my mind.

Why? I'm not quite sure. But I know that despite all the fear, I am going to speak. When the thoughts form.

Merry XXXmas

Earlier this week I went down to Philly for the Erotic Literary Salon where Emerald was the featured reader. It was great fun, and Susana Mayer, the  creator of the salon, had put out a challenge for folks to write naughty holiday haikus. My friend Kam tried his hand at some, even though he was traveling and couldn't be there. Susana read them and the audience sure seemed to like them. He said it was okay for me to post them here. So, without further ado...

Santa's pants on floor
Blankets piled in the corner
Giggles from underneath


Silky liquid runs down
Santa's elves have such long legs
Lapping up towards prize


Tight hole seldom plumbed
Santa positions with care
Plugs elf butt with glee


Soft lips suck long hard
Red cheeks bulge with excitement
She-elf smiles at boss


Santa traces breast curve
Mommy is doing more than kiss
Santa plunges deep


Santa watches you
Good girls know how to please lovers
Santa joins in now

A tale of two readings.

Reading at the Erotic Literary Salon

touch
always
press of
skin against
skin
remember*




*from Memento Vivere




Last month I had the pleasure of reading at Philadelphia's Erotic Literary Salon with Jeremy Edwards. He was reading from his "eroto-comedic" novel, Rock My Socks Off and I  read some of my erotic poetry, which was quite a treat. Also, Emerald, who will feature there this month, read in the open mike.


This reading series, begun two years ago by Susana Mayer, is a wonderful venue, and I only wish it was closer to me, so I could go all the time (I am going to hear Emerald read on Dec. 21). Emerald and I got to meet Susana in the afternoon (both arriving at her place at the same time!) and we had some fascinating discussions. I think both Emerald and I were coveting her bookshelves. Then  Jeremy, his wife Helia, Emerald, my Philly friend Kam, and me, had a delicious dinner at a nice Indian restaurant around the corner from the venue, The Bohemian Absinthe Lounge.

The reading itself was fantastic. The open mike had wonderful poetry and erotica (check out Ricc Berra, who read an excerpt from this). I was impressed with the respectful and attentive crowd. How wonderful to have such a supportive-of-the-erotic spoken word series. Jeremy did a terrific job, as usual (I've heard him read before). If you want to watch Jeremy's reading, he has links posted at his blog, here. If I can figure out how to do the same, I will post mine here. Stay tuned.

This was the first time I've been able to do an entire reading of my erotic poetry, including my Seattle Erotic Arts Festival poems, as well as some of the ones here. Many of the poems are ones I've done in readings and performances during the past several years. But a few of them had never been read aloud before, poems with the words "cock and cunt." Poems that speak openly of my desires.  Though I hate to use the word, because it's so overused, I found reading these poems before an audience to be very empowering. The audience's reaction to my poems really touched me. I know that my poems have meaning to me, because I write my heart out, but several audience members came up to me afterwards and commented that they were moved by my words. That's heady stuff for a writer to hear.

Afterwards, I celebrated by sharing an absinthe with Helia, who was also eager to try it. Needless to say, I liked it. The whole ritual of the sugar cube and the ice water, the clouding of the liquor itself, well, I guess I'll have to write a poem!

**************

A week and a half later, I read again, this time here at home (sorta, about an hour away). I'd been debating whether or not to read one of my SEAF poems in addition to a few other erotic poems (I always do some erotic poems in my readings, surprise surprise). It was a small crowd on a very chilly night, and in a fit of bravery, I read Memento Vivere, a poem chronicling events of my sexual life. It's a very personal poem, and it's also a challenge to read, since it's partly visual. I was a little nervous about what kind of reaction I'd get here - most of the folks in the audience knew me and while some knew about my Erobintica activities, others did not. I'm happy to report that it went well. 

I kinda find it ironic that my erotic poetry is bringing together my Erobintica self with my other writing self (maybe selves?). I'd thought to keep them separate, for various reasons, when I started out. Slowly, the lines have merged and blurred. Soon, I imagine (hope?) there will be no boundaries. That's one reason why I read under my full real name at the Erotic Literary Salon. I am proud of Erobintica. It's a name I will continue to use. But there will be no more hiding. 

Several interesting writing-related opportunities have presented themselves recently, and it's not despite my erotic writings, but because of them. There's a lesson here for me. I'm hoping I'm an attentive student.

Yielding: Please, Sir: Erotic Stories of Female Submission

I don't like to be bossed around. I don't consider myself to be submissive, and my husband doesn't either. But.

The idea of being restrained, of being NOT in control, of being told what to do ... why do these thoughts turn me on? Why do I get a rush when my hands are held together over my head? Why does a little bit of pain seem to make my body respond so strongly? I don't know the answer, but I do know that reading the stories in Please, Sir: Erotic Stories of Female Submission have had a much stronger effect on me than I had anticipated. (Disclaimer–I've not read all of them yet). The stories in this new collection of BDSM erotica, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, explore "female submission and male dominance from the sub's point of view." The women in these stories are "smart enough to know that kink is not about simply embracing one's fears, but grappling with them, battling with them, taking risks and seeing if, in fact, they yield sexy rewards."

It's getting close to midnight as I type this. I know I'm resisting. I don't want to go to the places my mind is going right now. Earlier this evening, I was talking with Emerald (author of the story "Power over Power") on the phone, and she said something about "intimacy with self" (I wasn't taking notes, but I did jot this down). And I'm tired and I don't recall the exact context, but that struck a chord with me. We have to get very intimate with ourselves, to accept whatever kinkiness lies within us. Sometimes what we want is not what we think we want.

Like I said, I've not read all the stories yet. But all the ones I have, even the stories that have at their center something that I just can't wrap my mind around, have been engaging and thought-provoking as well as arousing. I would heartily recommend this book if you are taking part in NaMaMo (for National Masturbation Month). That blog was started by Shanna Germain, whose story "Anticipation" starts off Please, Sir.

Here's the book trailer for Please, Sir.




Also, at the Please, Sir blog, there are some interesting posts, including interviews with some of the authors, excerpts from the book, as well as tidbits like info about the gorgeous corset on the book cover.

While some of the stories involve pushing limits and receiving physical punishment, some are more about psychological power play, such as Donna George Storey's "Just What She Needs," which involves a reversal of sorts.

What I'm wondering right now (when it's getting so late that I really need to stop wondering) is what some of the authors felt as they were writing these stories. Were they exploring territory they are familiar with or unfamiliar with? How much is autobiographical and how much imagination? You don't have to tell which is which, LOL. Unless you want to. Also, if in the writing of the story, you discovered something about yourself that maybe you weren't as aware of before.

And if you're not in this anthology, please comment on your thoughts about the whole submission/dominance topic and how it relates to your writing (if you write).

The last line on the back of the books says it all: Find out why nothing is as hot as the power of the words "Please, Sir."

A Week Ago at In the Flesh: Emerald was Hot!

Last Thursday, Mr. E and I headed into New York City to meet up with a good friend of mine and then join Emerald and "Rick Write" for dinner before heading over to In the Flesh, where she was scheduled to read. I hadn't seen her since last summer (the great Gettysburg erotic writers dinner), and it was certainly a pleasure getting together again. And great fun meeting "Rick." I'd been wanting to get my husband down there to see what an erotic reading was like. Though this one wasn't that erotic, with the exception of Em's reading. If you would like to listen and watch for yourself, go here to her blog and enjoy!

Also scheduled to read was Stephen Elliott, who was up this way last November doing a reading that would have ... let's just say ... repercussions. He slept on our living room floor and tweeted about our "demon cats from hell." He was nice enough to stop by and say hi before he read.

It was a fun evening, and at least this time, being upstairs, we got to hear the readers. Being short, I was not able to see them read, so I appreciate the videos. The picture above left is one of those happy accidents. I was holding my camera over my head hoping to get something.  Below is what I actually got to see.

And I'll include the picture below, in which I am laughing and squinting and looking far too much like the middle-aged lady I am (hush everyone, I can hear you scolding me). Emerald of course looks lovely despite being nervous (this was taken before the reading). The other subject in the photo will have to remain unidentified (to protect the innocent and all that - yeah right). 

Well, I would write a bit more, but it looks like we're going to have a thunderstorm, so I better post this before something happens. 

Pop over to Emerald's for Poppy Seeds

Spicy Summer Sundays continue at the blog of Emerald today. Her spice is poppy seeds. She's made a delicious summer salad and some autumn muffins in honor of this time of year. I was just saying to my husband yesterday that it definitely feels like the end of summer out - plants look different and there's some subtle change in the air. The topic of discussion is transitions - so pop on over to her blog and join us.

Emerald wants you to come over

All over her face that is! Today is her turn to host the Blow Hard Tour 2009. She's got excerpts and a wonderful vid clip. So, join the fun and leave a comment - you might win a prize!

Salad Days

After a brief pause to let our bodies digest the wonderful erotic blog feast of the past week, we travel to Emerald's city, for the salad tossing extravaganza (sorry, couldn't resist - it's late). Though I have no idea what will be in her salad, I searched my files and found a picture taken in my garden in warmer times - it will be warmer in a few months, right?

Will post picture in the morning - think I hit blogger gridlock post super bowl