Monday, 31 August 2009
Camping, apparently, is 'sexy' these days - let's see how erotically charged it can be to wear twenty pairs of socks to bed, shall we?
Though Morrissey did write the lines: 'Were you and he lovers/ And if you were, then say that you were/ On a groundsheet under canvas/ With your tent flap open wide' - which is at least making an effort. Tent flaps at the ready!
While I'm away, don't forget that the Misbehaviour anthology, featuring my story Office Sex, releases in the UK on September 3rd. I'll be back with more on that, plus a teaser, at the weekend.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Anyway, that's not really what I want to post about today.
When I was in Paris, I went to the Musee d'Orsay (how do I get an acute accent on this thing?) and I saw this:
L'Origine du Monde by Gustave Courbet, hanging in a public gallery for anyone and everyone to see, just as long as they've paid their Euros to get into the museum. I think there may have been a little notice with a warning on at the entrance to the side room, or I might be getting it mixed up with the Pompidou Centre.
So, if you want to go and look at it, you can. If you don't like graphic depictions of genitalia, you can pass it by. Presumably you, as an adult, are capable of making this decision for yourself.
Unless...the genitalia are male. And you are a lady. Then, of course, you no longer have that facility. You need your little eyes covered.
So it would seem, at least, given the palaver there has been over Filament Magazine's attempt to find a printer who will deal with them. Are they publishing inflammatory material of a nature likely to incite hatred or fear? No. It's just a cock.
It's like one of those obscure medieval laws you sometimes read about that are technically still in force - having the right to paint your cow yellow on the sixth Sunday after Septuagesima or whatnot. It's hard to believe that it's still taboo, and even harder to work out why.
But Filament, thanks to some good old fashioned nu-media campaigning by the ever-vigilant Erotica Cover Watch, has sold enough copies of its excellent opening issue to hire a less tentative press. There will be tumescence!
I am fascinated to see what happens about distribution now, and I wish them the very best of luck.
Friday, 14 August 2009
This one is more an archetype than a man, but my recent viewing of Desperate Romantics has renewed a dormant enthusiasm for the Victorian cad, or rake, or generally sketchy geezer. I have loved these demons in brocade weskits from childhood - given the choice between Adonis-like hero and melodrama baronet, I would always root for the latter.
Now I am longing to write a novel featuring such a man. A Rawdon Crawley, a Francis Levison, a Sir Despard Murgatroyd. Ooh, that would be so exciting.
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
Thursday, 6 August 2009
And me! My story is called The Number and in it I shoehorn about half a dozen of my favourite fantasy scenarios into one 6K piece of fiction. I hope some of them might be your favourite fantasy scenarios too. The outgoing editor at Black Lace liked it so much he thought I could use it as the springboard for a novel. Alas, it seems that that will now never be.
But here is an excerpt for you:
‘Nothing will happen that you don’t want,’ confirmed Master in her other ear. ‘We are taking you on a journey into your own needs and desires.’