Oh Editing

Oh editing.

My daughter is doing Camp NaNo this year, which is NaNoWriMo but in April. So that has given me some impetus to get on the editing of the draft I wrote last November. It needs major changes, including making some serious decisions about the direction and purpose of the book. Is it even going to be erotica by the time I’m done? I don’t know. The task is daunting and calls for bold, decisive action.

So my goal is to get through the draft this month. To work on it every day, to see what happens.

Maybe next month I’ll have something to share with you, my loyal audience (such as you exist at all).

Oh editing.

Making up the details about Mary Magdalene and Joanna

I am so enjoying this NaNoWriMo. Nothing like revising history and religion to suit my subversive preferences. Who says Mary Magdalene didn’t teach and preach at Jesus’s side? And what about Joanna, one of “the women” who followed Jesus, but were remembered as official disciples. In non-canonical sources she was said to have “renounced the marriage bed.” We don’t have details about these women, so we have no choice but to make them up.

I apologize to readers who are here for the monsters. There won’t be very much monster sex in this book.

I, too was a teacher. I sat beside Jesus sometimes, others I would go off with the women and share the teachings for women only. When I bled, I would take all the other bleeding women and we would spend a day in a secluded place by a river or stream, where we could bathe freely as we desired. “The body is holy, not just the male body, but the female as well. Without the female body, there would be no male bodies, and our flow connects us to the river of life. This is a gift of the goddess, and whatever separates us from our divinity must be separated from us. If men do not wish us to touch their meat when we bleed, then we may leave the men to feed themselves, and we are relieved of the duty. But never believe that it is because we are unclean. Jesus will tell you that no food is clean or unclean, but I tell you that this is also true of our bodies.”

“Also, if you are feeling the pangs of bleeding, do not think that this is penance asked of us. Jesus is not here to teach us to sacrifice or to suffer, but to relieve our suffering. And if the pleasures of the body bring relief, it is a gift from the goddess for us to gladly partake of. If no man will partake with us, then surely we can find a sister who will.”

Joanna and I both bled with the moon, so we were in the women’s group together, though she did not always pay regard to the dictate of men that we avoid them when we bled, and she would go among them, as close as she would at any other time. She was of slight build, and in a loose shift and a shawl, she might be mistaken for a man. She did not have any fondness for men, and if a man did not wish to assist her with the pangs of bleeding, it was not a loss to her.

“How do you tolerate them?” she asked. 

“I do not find them on the whole less agreeable than women. Each sex has its advantages and disadvantages,” I replied.

“What are the advantages of men?” she asked, incredulous.

“In general? Well, they are not all the same. Some are more kind, some work hard, just like women. I do enjoy … their parts.”

She made a sound of disgust in her throat. “The only man I can tolerate is Jesus. His teachings are admirable, and I believe the world would be far better if more people adopted them. I can be at ease with him and with his followers, which is not the case in the rest of the world, but I would not wish to be exposed to his parts.”

I laughed. “If that is how you feel, then I am sure you do not need to worry about it happening.”

“Indeed,” she said, “and that is what I like about him.”

Did Mary Magdalene enjoy hot springs?

The kinds of things you learn when you research for writing erotica: There are hot springs near two places where Mary Magdalene was said to have lived, namely, the town of Magdala, and what is today known as the Provence region of France.

The city of Magdala is said to have lain between the current town of Migdal and Mount Arbel, about three miles north of Tiberias, on the shore of the Sea (lake) of Galilee.
Mary is said to have lived in a cave at Saintes Maries de la Mer. (Lower left.)

Okay, I will admit the latter location is a little farther from the hot springs (“thermes,” en Francais), but I’m calling it close enough for me to imagine she could live in a place where she could take hot baths whenever she wanted. I just like hot baths.

Sadly, they are all closed at this time, because of the plague. One of the pleasures of erotica is that we can enjoy an imaginary world in which there is no disease.

I’m aiming for a full novel this time, so it might take longer than the usual short stories. I’ll keep you posted on when this book might be published. Till then, you’ll have to make do with my older monster erotica stories, available on amazon.

Free Monster Erotica now!

Maybe you don’t know if monster erotica is really for you. I understand, a sexy golem risen from the mud of a fecund creek is a little out of the ordinary. You want to test the murky waters, dip your toe before you dive in head first. It’s natural to be a little hesitant when the unknown beckons. Maybe it’s your first time, and you don’t know what to expect. I get it.

You need an incentive. So, starting tomorrow, for 3 days only, Glommed By the Golem is free.

That’s right, the first time is free. Enjoy as my gift to you. Some harmless, delicious monster erotica. But just so you know, there’s a slight possibility that it could be addictive.

Glommed By the Golem.

In Which I Glom a Story From My Brain

The pandemic has lasted long enough for even me to write a second story on the theme. So here it is.

My research into the monster erotica audience indicates that readers of monster erotica don’t have strong preferences regarding gender and orientation, so I decided to try a male/male story this time, which is new to me. At first I wondered if I were getting it right, then I just let it flow and enjoyed the writing. I’ll let you decide if it’s any good or not, and I always welcome feedback.

Enjoy.

Oh, and one other thing. I learn a lot about language while writing erotica. Looking up “glom,” for instance, taught me that the word has two verb meanings, one that I knew, which is to attach, as in “glom onto” something. The other is more like stealing or snatching. You may read the story to see how I’m using the word here.

The Miasm Is Here!

Hey, it’s now available on Amazon!

Yeah, I’m the kind of weirdo who gets stuck in my house for weeks because of a global pandemic, then thinks, hm, there’s probably an erotica story in this . . .

And you get to enjoy my weirdness.

Here’s a link. Free on kindle unlimited.

The Miasm Is Coming!

Here’s a little excerpt from my upcoming pandemic monster erotica story.

After you read it, if you feel like sticking around for a comment, tell me what you think would be good keywords.

The Miasm is coming. Nobody knows where it will come from, or when, but it has already subsumed several Asian countries, and parts of New York and California. It floats on the air like pollen, but much more deadly. Some say they can feel it coming, can sense the subtle shift in the light when it passes over, or they can faintly smell an earthy odor on the breeze. They feel an unexplained achiness in the joints, or a headache, or a fit of languor. Everyone is afraid.

All of Italy is on lockdown. No one is allowed out of their homes, except infrequently, to buy needed supplies.

Some speculate that the Miasm may already be here. Is that the real reason for this subterranean anxiety, the compulsive buying of insignificant items? Perhaps it affects the mind as well as the body, and certain extreme behaviors observed in mass media and among national leadership are actually the result of some unnamed mental disturbance that can’t be comprehended, and is therefore projected outward.

Canada has closed its borders.

Signs of the Miasm:

         Fever, often accompanied by restlessness and free-floating anxiety, as if one has some unknown, insatiable need.

         Racing pulse.

         Weakness, inability to control the body; or, paradoxically, the body moving with great force but equally beyond control of the patient.

         Mental confusion, as if the normal perception of reality is distorted. Time becomes incomprehensible. Sense of self is impaired. Ability to recognize familiar faces and places may be compromised.

Symptoms become progressively worse, and there is no known treatment. In some cases, restraint is necessary to prevent self-harm.   

Sports events, festivals, church services, and all large gatherings have been cancelled. Schools nationwide have been closed. Restaurants and bars are shuttered in Chicago, Minneapolis, and Kansas City.

Miasmic syndrome ends in complete incapacitation, mania, and wasting away of the body until death. An unknown number of patients recover, however, they may have lasting disabilities in the areas of cognition and ability to exhibit normal emotional reactions, particularly in social situations.

Everyone is advised to stay indoors, alone or in small groups. Doors and windows should be locked, and curtains drawn. Ventilation outlets should be sealed. Drains should be stoppered, toilet lids closed and weighted when not in use. Minimize noise and movement. Try not to breathe.

The Miasm is here.

New Story, Lizard vs. Cockroach

Hi folks. I know I should milk these things a little more, make some announcements and cover reveals etc etc etc but what can I say, I get impatient and I’m working at a paying job more now, pressed for time so I just wrote this story and published it today. I mean, I was working on the story for a couple weeks, longer than it seemed like it ought to take, and today I decided it was done and then took advantage of the publishing revolution we are living, in which anyone can publish anything, at any time.

So, here’s the story: a woman has moved to Austin, TX (coincidentally, the same move I made in August of this year), and she finds herself in a run-in with some enormous mutant cockroaches. (I myself have seen cockroaches here in Texas that were astoundingly large, but never felt myself to be in imminent danger.) Who is the natural enemy of cockroaches? I imagine it’s one of my favorite creatures, the lizard. So a lizard man saves her, and they go on to celebrate their humanity and aliveness together, in a beautiful way.

“Rescued by the Lizard Man” will be live on Amazon any day. Go check it out, free on Kindle Select. And please tell all your monster-loving friends, because apparently I’m not very good at telling them myself.