My first story! OMG!

Hey all! BIG news today! That's right, I've finally jumped off my oh-so-cute ass and published a story on Kindle. It's first of MANY I have planned -- standalone stories as well as an upcoming sexy superhero serial -- and I'm pretty proud of it. Drum roll please!

A T Makes Three is the story of Jonah and Bridget, a ho-hum couple who have always talked about having a threesome, but never really taken steps to make it happen. That all changes when Dana, a beautiful, vivacious, assertive woman, enters the bar. Jonah is just about bowled over by the possibility, but he's forced to pause when Bridget tells him something about Dana -- she's transgender.

Now, there's no problem there, really. But throwing another cock in the mix can be a high bar for a vanilla guy like Jonah. Still, he bucks up and tells himself he can do anything he puts his mind to. And if he can get out of his head, he might find an adventure worth having.

You can grab the story on Amazon or Smashwords. If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! And if you're interested in a review copy, please email me and let me know!

Thanks for your patronage, and look forward to much more in the future!

Review: Cafe Revival, by Amanda Artemis

This week, I'm reviewing Cafe (no, I'm not doing the accent thing) Revival, by Amanda Artemis. This was written by a caller to Dan Savage's podcast, which I mentioned in a recent blogpost. I wasn't really sure what to expect -- Amanda didn't talk too much about her story specifically -- so even though I specifically sought out this story, I was flying blind.

The titular Cafe Revival is only really a tangential part of the story. It's the setting for our protagonist, Cora, to get an out-of-the-blue text from her boyfriend telling her that her relationship is over. There's a lot of emotional fallout over this, of course. Cora's new freedom leads her to experiment with her roommates and have a rebound with the barrista.

And that's ... sort of it. It's pretty short and simple, though that's not necessarily bad. The sex here is pretty quick and to the point. The roommate scenario is the longest sex scene we get, and that's only a page or two. The writing is very well done, though, and not in a "good for erotica," "all the words were spelled correctly!" sort of way. If you're looking for an introspective, literary story with an erotic charge, I recommend Cafe Revival, and you should definitely follow Ms. Artemis, as I think she's got a lot of potential. If you're looking for something more ... erm ... utilitarian to get off to, you will probably want to look elsewhere.

What a Difference a Decade Makes

Some idle thoughts for this week; we've come a long way with LGBT representation.

I know. Shocker, right? With marriage equality being passed in several states and with popular opinion being solidly egalitarian, that statement is fairly obvious. However, watching some older media recently, I realized how quickly the change has occurred.

Farscape (pretty much the best TV show ever, really) aired from 1999-2003 on the SciFi channel (that's basic cable for you non-USAians). During that time, it played with some pretty complex themes and edgy material. It was certainly implied that non-hetero aliens existed out in the universe. And yet, we never really saw them. There weren't any out and proud examples of gay Nebari or lesbian Peacekeepers, though we did get plenty of same-sex tension.

It wasn't until an episode called Twice Shy that we get our first lesbian kiss. Even then, I'm not sure it counts, as the kisser is being sort of mind controlled by the kissee. But it's presented as a heightening of that character's primary emotion -- sexual desire -- so we can assume that, yes, she does really want it. Anyway, the point is that I have to suspect this was pretty shocking at the time, 2003. Well, perhaps not shocking, but surprising and hard to get away with, even on basic cable. Now, of course, we've seen same-sex kissing on network TV plenty of times (though Modern Family somewhat controversially has only recently shown a kiss between the two gay dads). That's 10 years from "Omg, gay people on TV! And they put their lips together!" to "Uh, so what?"

If we spread our scope even farther, you can find some other hilarious examples. For instance, Queer as Folk, which started airing in 2000 on Showtime, was pretty risque and groundbreaking in its frank portrayal of queer sex. Now we've got Looking on HBO, which is similarly groundbreaking for its frank depiction of how boring and mundane queer life is. Which isn't to say it's a bad show, or that queer people as lame. It's saying that, hey, gay people live pretty much like straight people do. They have interpersonal drama and workplace problems, but mostly it's just getting along day by day. 14 years from "GAY PEOPLE ON TV???" to "I'm glad the rimjob scene is nice distraction from them talking about taxes or whatever."

And of course, before I go, I have to give a shout out to Ellen, whose show aired from 1993-1998, and whose coming out paved the way for a ton of LGBT visibility. Plenty of shows had gay characters before, even on networks -- I remember Roseanne in particular. But Ellen was one of the first, if not the first, to have its main character be gay as opposed to a quirky queer stereotype. She will always have my respect for that.

Review: Beatrice, by Carl East

TW: This post contains a few instances of cissexist language.

This week, I read Beatrice (The Shemale), by Carl East.

First things first. There's a slur in the title. It's gross, and I wish authors would stop using these words. That said, I can understand why they do, and it's not (generally) out of bigotry. This is the shit that sells. A story titled 'Beatrice (The Shemale)' is going to be a lot more popular than one called 'Beatrice (The Transgender Woman)'. It's sad, and it's something I hope I can help to change with my writing. But it's a fact.

Anyway, based on the title, you'd expect this to be a story about a trans woman sucking, fucking, etc. Quelle surprise. Bea is actually not trans, but intersex, born with both male and female genitalia. She's probably more like a futanari - a Japanese hentai term for sexy women with giant cocks and wet pussies, but (generally) no testicles. Bea isn't actually an accurate portrayal of intersex physiology, but given that this is a fantasy, and that it's pretty rare to hear about the existence of intersex people AT ALL, I'll take what I can get.

So, aside from the political stuff, is the story any good? Well ... it's not awful. But it didn't quite do it for me. For one thing, the prose itself needs work. It's not unreadable by any means, but it does often feel lifeless, and I was unclear about Bea's status for much of the story (which is saying something, given how short it is). I think East's writing could (or maybe already has) improve with some practice, but right now it's not evocative enough to capture my imagination.

The plot is pretty silly. Bea has an 11-inch cock. One day she decides to masturbate it, and apparently breaks her cock-hymen because she bleeds (I really hope this is something the author invented, and he doesn't actually think penises have hymens). Some time later, she attends a slumber party with her (high school? it's not super clear) friends. They talk about all the copious amounts of fucking they've done, Bea gets hard, shows them her cock and they fuck. One of the girls then calls Bea "my girl/boyfriend," which ... yeah. That's the story. It's perfectly perfunctory, and there's just as much fucking, oral and cumming as you'd expect. There are no surprises, other than that original 11-inch one. It's all fine, but when I read erotica, I really need something *more* than fine to get me off. I can use my imagination to continue scenes after the text finishes, but if I'm going to do that, I'm not going to pay $0.99 for the privilege.

If there's a bright spot, it's that Bea is fairly charming as a character. There isn't enough time for a lot of character development, but the author treats her like a human being, and there is some genuine emotion here. And I'd say the story generally is a sex-positive, tolerant one, which makes the title choice all the more unfortunate.

While I can't quite recommend this one, I do think the author is capable of some good work in the future. Just let's ditch the slurs, k?

On Writer's Block

Writer's block used to be a thing, say, 15 or 20 years ago. It was the subject of oh-so-many films and novels (seriously, any time you need a conflict for a writer character, just give them writer's block). It's been tackled by a plethora of self-help books promising fast remedies. It's been combated with writing prompts and speed writings and who knows what else.

And then, recently, there was a shift. Most of the advice given to beginning writers aching for a way to get over writer's block is ... there is no writer's block.

It is not the writing that is blocked

And this is pretty good advice, actually. A lot of what people call 'writer's block' is simple inertia, not specific to writing or even art in general. In any line of work, there are days where you just can't get going. A lack of motivation, an abundance of distraction, a tendency toward procrastination. Some people call it a muse, but I don't know that inspiration has much to do with it. A lot of it is just the natural ebb and flow of work ethic, and the fact that once you skip a day or two, it can be hard to get back into the groove. That's why the "no such thing" advice helps so many people; it's easier to move past something when you pretend (or realize!) that it's not actually there.

I think there is something specific to artistic creation that can make progress hard, though, and it's something I've been struggling with in my non-erotic fiction. It's that inner editor niggling. Telling you your writing isn't good enough, it's shit. That I'm at the age that other people have started to finish series and win awards, and how do I ever expect to get to that level with this word-vomit?

So yeah, that's a real problem. Thankfully, I think erotica is a real escape from that. Not that I'm saying I don't strive to write erotic fiction well -- I do. But there's a different set of expectations for erotica. Mainstream fiction rarely exists for any single purpose. You might say "to entertain," but even so, there's plenty of thematic depth expected from all but the most shamelessly banal of stories.

Erotica, on the other hand, exists for one purpose: to get the reader off. And we all have such wildly different tastes that you're not even expected to succeed for *everybody*. Writing erotica, in some sense, is easy. Most of us have fantasies, as a friend of mine once said. Put your fantasy on the page. You have written erotica.

So when will you get to read some of mine? Soon. Promise.

Review: The Substitute (Kinky Mom), by Molly Prude

Moving to a new town is always fraught. It's usually not pornographic. Given the type of blog you're reading, you might suspect that Serenade Springs is an exception.

The novelette revolves around a young windowed mother named Molly Prude. She comes equipped with three cute daughters ranging in age from Sexy Teenager to Sexy Young Adult. Actually, one of her daughters is in her mid-twenties so I'm not really clear on what she's doing here, but oh well.

So yeah, with four sexy women in a town that gives out sex toys in their welcome basket, you know we're gonna see some stuff. Each character gets a chapter, and each chapter involves them getting into sexy, sexy, conundrums.

The first encounter is actually probably the hottest, but also the most taboo and might disturb some readers. The women all act with disgust toward the sex toys, but when night falls, they each grab one in secret. Molly goes from room to room, checking on her kids, and of course each one is in the process of diddling herself. The mom/daughter incest fantasy is a stereotypical male one, but it's still pretty hot, at least for me -- maybe because I'm really into female self-pleasure. In any case, for those not too into it, it doesn't really go much further than Molly peeking in, so it's easily skimmable.

The other escapades are interesting, though I did feel like the actual sex was too short. I'm not one to complain that the story needs to be all sex and nothing but sex, but many of the chapters were a lot of build up, and then clothes falling off and an orgasm in all of couple of lines. I would have liked to see more, which is absolutely a compliment to the author's writing skills.

The other complaint I have is that the daughters are too similar. It's nice, in shorter stories like these, to have some easily identifiable character traits to differentiate the protagonists. Here, the girls are all pretty interchangable, which made me care less about their reactions than I wanted to.

As I intimated above, the writing is strong and clear, and some of the situations are hot, but short. I was left wanting more, but the story was interesting enough that I want to continue with the rest of the series. Given that this entry is currently free, I'm going to Recommend that you check it out!

The Line Between Safety and Fantasy

Erotica is a lot like porn. Okay, it is porn. Just in literary form. Sometimes people try to pretend that it's a higher art form, and I guess there *is* erotica in which the actual sex acts take a backseat (in the backseat? BOOM!) to the story. But for most of it, the intention is to get the reader off. Which is great!

One of the things that's talked a lot about in porn, though, and only sometimes in erotica, is the line between granting fantasy and portraying safe, sex-positive interactions.

Dan Savage addressed this in a recent podcast concerning the depictions of condoms in erotica. On the one hand, we should be striving to make safe sex just as sexy and sought after as barebacking. That's the responsible thing to do, right? On the other hand, a lot of people go to erotica to escape the dangerous, unsexy realities of the real world. To be able to experience crazy, thrilling, caution-to-the-wind fucking without having to worry about destroying lives, relationships or body parts. And contrary to the efforts of safe-sex advocates everywhere, condomless fucking is simply sexier to a vast majority of people, likely owing to the simple fact that it's by definition more intimate and more dangerous, both of which tend to get people's cranks turning.

And after all, there are plenty of far more dangerous, problematic fantasies in the pages of erotica than screwing without protection. Rape is a hugely common subject, but we've sort of come to terms with that because a) It's a fantasy that a lot of people, men and women, legitimately have, and b) it allows us to experience that fantasy, to scratch that itch, while still recognizing that a real-world manifestation of such a thing is awful, abhorrent and forbidden. There are plenty of other topics we can throw in here: incest, bestiality (how many copies did Dinosaur Porn sell?), hell, I've even seen pedophilia in mainstream published erotica anthologies.

So does that mean we say 'fuck it?' Make everything as sexy as possible for our readers, social responsibility be damned? Well ... perhaps not quite. I think there's a way we can have our cake and eat it too. We don't necessarily need to shove our politics and morals down a reader's throat -- there are plenty of other great things to shove down there. But maybe we can play with subtly, treat safety like it's No Big Thang, and see how it goes.

In my latest work, I've got a small little reference to a condom. A one-line thing. Enough that it might stick in your mind even while you're jillin' it, but small enough that if you're one of the people for whom the condom REALLY destroys the fantasy, you can easily ignore it and keep going. There's no focus on it. It's not slipping off, being adjusted. There's no breakage followed by a race to the Walgreens to get some Plan B. Just a short, sweet, "she slipped a condom on" and then away we go.

What do you all think? Should we ignore the threats of the real world and focus solely on fantasy? Is there a responsibility on the part of erotica writers or porn producers to at least pay lip service to safe sex?