It Rolls Around, Then Sits and Stares

Any of you who are writers will have had this experience. A line suddenly pops into your head and you scramble to write it down. A scene forms, choppy at first, but it's a rough draft so who cares? No one will be reading it yet. The writing is going along pretty well and then...it just dies. So you toss it off to the side and hope that it will be useful at a later date.

Fortunately for me, I manage to use most of my little tidbits. But I have one that keeps popping up- and I still haven't used it. Although I might have a home for it soon.

While it sits, patient and lonely, I thought that I would let it's unpolished glory marinate here for a while. Once I am done playing with my zombies, I will come back for her.
........

"The Arm"

The cold press of mechanized steel forcing me against the rough texture of the wall shocks me-almost as much as it thrills me. The subtly threatening gesture of silver-capped fingertips reaching for my throat makes liquid heat pool in my groin.

My companion's human arm slides to encircle my waist as her mouth tastes the skin over my thundering pulse. My hips thrust imperceptibly and a whimper tumbles from my lips. She laughs and I know how easy I am making this for her, how submissive I become with a simple kiss.

The crimson laces of my walking suit nearly tear under impatient hands, revealing the tattoo emblazoned across my chest. The raven-haired seductress leans forward and whispers hotly into my ear, a thought so obscenely and erotically decadent that all I can do is groan and fight to keep from falling. My hands fumble to find purchase in the bullet-riddled wall when the dark head dips to brush an aching peak.

A sudden wheezing cough separates us from our inappropriate display. An old man stands nearby, his equally ancient food cart tilted slightly under a rusted axle. The tinted goggles over his eyes suggest nothing of his mood, but the crooked grin assures us of his interest. Slowly he begins to move again, the whining grind of poorly-oiled gears reminding me that a grimy alley is not the best place for sex.

“Darling, not here.” I bit back a moan as those skilled hands cupped my breasts familiarly.

“But the doctor said that I could begin using my new arm today.” She emphasized her point, leaning back to watch my face while her fingers lifted my dress. The whisper of clicks and the touch of cool metal told me that she was about to use her mechanical arm on my most vulnerable region.

My eyes closed and a full-body shiver announced my pleasure at her not-so-subtle means of persuasion. I jerked and quaked as she stroked me. Damn that witch. She knows what she does to me. However, I had my own tricks and no compulsion not to use them.

Easily, I cupped the back of her neck and pulled her close. Close enough to rasp my tongue over the delicate shell of her ear. My voice dropped to its lowest register. “Darling, if you take me to bed we will put your arm to uses that the good doctor never intended.”

to be continued......

Dammit, Jim, I'm a fiction writer, not a poet!

I will be the first to admit that I am not a poet. I dabble on occasion but my rhyming scheme leaves alot to be desired. That's one of many reasons why I write short stories- no iambic pentameter, haiku, etc. Plus it's hard to make your characters slaughter the undead in under 50 lines :)

There was a Webook challenge awhile back for writers to choose at least one of the provided 50 topics and write a poem based on that. I chose the theme 'Red' and managed not to muck it up too badly.
.........
Mottled tones of broken grey
filled my line of sight
I watched the world with deadened eyes
pass in the moonlit night

Earthly shadows whispered
though I heard nothing that was said
My inner voices chanted
How can you feel so dead?

And in my darkest hour
where ghosts and sadness grew
A woman came upon me
from amongst the passing few

Silently she came to me
and reached a slender hand
I started from my waking slumber
and obeyed her sweet command

Talk to me, she spoke
her tone a heaven’s dream
Tell me all your secrets
her eyes a glowing beam

Suddenly the world lit up
the colors not so bleak
My voice, long gone, released itself
what is it that you seek?

I want to see the winds of change
and turn fate’s twisting loom
I want to chase away your tears
and pull you from your deepest tomb

I saw the girl in the fading sky
and fought a sweet caress
My eyes were open, but looked anew
at the color of her dress

Seeing red so beautifully
I had lost its vibrant hue
I began to see more colors now
even brown and green and blue

I fell to my knees, shaking
my heart is desperate straits
Are you an angel, m’lady
come to take to pearly gates?

Her laughter came out musically
as she pulled me from the streets
I am no angel, lady
but a devil between the sheets

Astounded at her humor
my emotions flooded out
I clasped my hands in silent prayer
my thanks in gods devout

Into light she pulled me
her hands so strong and true
Quietly she whispered
my heart was meant for you

And in her eyes I saw the truth
of words we never spoke
A love so deep and endless
even strangers cannot cloak

I took the red and filled my hands
her dress clasped in my grip
My mouth drank hers and she held me
her hand upon my hip

I felt the scarlet hue of passion
the vermillion heat a treasure
I taste the ruby of her lips
the flame of crimson pleasure

I love red now
it calls to me, a savior from my ache
An angelic woman choosing me
am I still awake?

If a dream this is, let me go
stay in dark abyss
If she is real, I stay up
basking in her kiss

Destiny is upon us
our souls in thankful hands
We hold each other softly
and do as love demands.
........

Come on, poetry publishers, you know that you want to flock to me after reading that masterpiece :)
(Btw, I know that it's not an awful piece- it just needs polishing.)

Props to the poets who can make their work flow so beautifully!

Two Bits for the Blow-off

I am fascinated by the old traveling carnivals. Filled with all the usual games, rides, and food but with the special bonus of the sideshow. I'm not sure whether seeing my first pickled punk or watching the 1932 movie 'Freaks' sealed the deal but as I dug deeper into the oddities that graced the stage, my interest grew.

Unfortunately the tradition of the sideshow mostly died out. If you happen to find such a show (at least in the US), the 'freaks' usually consist of contortionists, fire-breathers, blockheads, and the occassional geek. I admit that these people are talented and definitely are a rare breed, but they lack the punch-to-the-gut awe that human oddities created upon first sight to the small-town folks who paid to see them.

I have a small, but growing, collection of books and pitch cards consisting of the wild and weird people that displayed themselves for money. Some of these people were basically bought by carnival owners for their unusual looks, but many joined because they couldn't find work anywhere else.  Many of these folks were making hundreds of dollars per week at a time when most people earned an average of $0.22 an hour (in 1910).

I have huge respect for people who can put themselves on display and especially those who turned their disabilites into advantages. There was one such man who always stuck with me- Prince Randian.
Known as The Human Caterpillar or The Human Torso, he was born without arms or legs. Yet he could shave, write, paint, and roll a cigarette. He could even take a match from a matchbox and light the cigarette. He also spoke four languages. Eventually, he married and had five children- a difficult feat for any person but imagine doing it with no arms or legs. Huge props to him :)

If you want to see Prince Randian in action there are several Youtube clips from his role in 'Freaks' (1932).

Geeks have also been of particular interest to me. I wouldn't mind having a chat with a person who could bite off the head of a live animal, or eat lightbulbs and maggots as if they were candy. I have to wonder how the person came to realize that they have a knack for such a thing.

My favorite site to read about these amazing, inspirational people is http://thehumanmarvels.com/.     J. Tithonus Pednaud has done a wonderful job of creating a site that embraces human differences.

If you just like the old banner art of the traditional sideshow, I would have to recommend 'Freakshow: Sideshow Banner Art'- by Carl Hammer. It not only has vibrant illustrations but also essays about each of the artists.

I could go on for pages about all things carnival, but I think that you would have a better time researching this fading world all on your own.

Like the hoochie-coochie girls say, "Don't forget your two bits for the blow-off."

How to Write a Dirty Story and Get it Noticed

Dragging your dirty, yummy thoughts onto paper can be a daunting task for any erotica writer--newbie or pro. Here's how to do it and hopefully get noticed.

1) Write your story. (Short stories here are king. If your idea starts running novella-length or longer, consider splitting it into chapters- each with their own erotic outcome. Your reader may only read one chapter per day, but it will keep them coming back for more.)

2) Look at your rough draft and consider your market. (Generally, men seem to prefer the take off your clothes and screw like bunnies method, where as women like the seduction before the dance.)

3) Tailor your story to the above-mentioned idea. (If you are writing for a male-dominated market, don't switch between graphic sex and lines of flowery prose.Using the word cunt in one sentence, then referring to her swollen center of pleasure in another can be jarring to your reader. Unless the situation calls for it, I would avoid the switch.)

4) Edit, edit, edit. (You are writing sex, not a romance novel. I doubt that your reader cares about your character's entire personal history. If it doesn't add to the story or takes away the steam of the moment- delete it.)

5) Polish it until it gleams. (Make it pretty, make it hot, and make it real. Even if your short story is involves two elves hooking up, will it excite your reader? If you have a hard time picturing the action, so will whomever reads your naughty work.)

6) Spell check is your friend. As is a properly formatted manuscript. Use them wisely.

7) Find the appropriate market to submit your work. (If you are writting your story for a contest or chose a magazine or website beforehand- Congratulations, you can skip this step. If you don't know where to place your story, research your little heart out. Wherever you choose, make sure to follow the publication's guidelines carefully. It would be a shame if you submitted a historical erotic tale to a sci-fi publication and got rejected simply because you didn't read their rules.Your time is valuable--as is the editor's--don't waste it.)

8) Create a brief cover letter, if asked for. (Make it polite and to the point. Unless an editor asks for your life story--which they won't-- don't send four pages of unneccessary information. Again, read the publishing guidelines carefully.)

9) Email (or snail mail) your story.

10) Wait. (Don't send 20 emails asking if the editor received/reviewed your work. That's just rude.)

11) Repeat steps 1-10 as often as you like.


Have fun, flesh peddlers :)