Questions Asked and Yet Answered

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, I’m awake and alive (the two can be, at times, mutually exclusive), and I made it through another Saturday which wasn’t one of the best, but it was better than I expected.  There wasn’t as much writing as expected–I feel just short of six hundred words before I was busy doing some research during the afternoon, and there were distractions like Where Eagles Dare being on TCM (bit of trivia:  it has the highest body count of any Clint Eastwood movie–total 100 people–and it was the last movie where he didn’t receive top billing) and then Orphan Black Season Two starting an hour and a half later, seestras.  But the quantity isn’t important:  it’s the quality.  And it ended with one of the more important things I’ve written for the story:

 

(Excerpt from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

Annie patted the envelope with her right hand. “Ms. Rutherford left prepaid debit cards with £200 on them for us to use. No need to worry about money for the day.”

“Oh.” Kerry’s eyes took on a far away look as he seemed to consider Annie’s words.

Seeing the indecision on Kerry’s face, Annie knew the time had come to push the forty-four percent odds in her favor. She reached out and touched his hand; Kerry’s head swiveled around to face her immediately. “Would you like to do something? Would you like to go somewhere with me, Kerry?”

 

Yeah, those last two questions are going to come back a few more times in this scene, and later–well, I know what sort of importance they play much later in the story, and the effects are going to be fairly tramatic.  You wouldn’t think that would be the case, but it will.  It’s gonna tear someone’s heart out.

Don’t worry:  they’ll get better.

Yesterday’s post seemed to generate a few of my more interesting comments, which were along the lines of, “Wait, there’s werewolf erotica?  Since when?”  Since people were writing, that’s when.  Off the top of my head I can’t remember the actual title, but back in the days when Rome was pretty much kicking everyone’s ass, one of the more popular books around had the main character turn into an ass and head off some sexual adventures.  It has been pointed out by no greater an authority on the mater than Cracked.com (I was biting my inner lip when I wrote that) that strange fetishes have been around a long time–sometimes centuries, sometimes a lot longer than we’d like to admit there’s recorded history.

I like to make fun of the various sorts of erotica out there on the Internet, until I remember that (1) these people are writing, and (2) some of them are selling a lot.  What that says about people in general I’ll leave to you, because if you read some of my stranger erotica, you’d likely lump me in with the dino porn women.

If you are curious about the the sort of things out there, never fear!  I’m gonna show you, because I’m that sort of gal.  Click on any of these links at risk of your own sanity, and lets remember that every link takes you to that wonderful purveyor of reading material, Amazon.com, and not some shady, back-asswards website where the Internet has crawled off to die.

Without further ado:

"How is that even . . . no, no, no!  Why did I look?  Why?"

“How is that even . . . no, no! Why did I look? Why?”

Maybe you’d like some Kraken erotica?

There are also some excitable werewolves, and a leprechaun you might not want to meet.

Maybe you’re not the Mother of Dragons, but you could be the lover or one–or two.

I don’t remember reading about this Minotaur when I was into Greek Mythology–

Speaking of Dino Porn–yeah, it’s here.

Gay Cuttlefish Shapeshifter Erotica–that’s not something I made up:  I’ve taken that right off the Amazon page for the story.  You’re welcome.

Even unicorns won’t escape my gaze!

Last but not least, if you’re interested in how someone works to write stuff like this, they talk about it in long piece from io9:  How to Write a Sex Scene Between a Unicorn and a Rainbow.

Hummm . . . I think my work here is done.

Sound and Vision

It’s early afternoon, and I can’t believe I’m getting to my writing now.  Usually by this time I’ve had my saying of the day saved to the Internets, and I’m kicked back with lunch and/or some other insanity.  Today I’m running late because–why not?  Due to having to get out and pick up a few things?  Because of an annoying  ?  On account of pedantic discussion on Star Trek?  Or maybe . . . bacon?

Only time will tell.  Or not, ’cause timey whimy, you know?

In thousand words leaps Fantasies in Harmonie moves forward.  It was only suppose to be some quickie porn that I’d rip out and post in no time:  instead, it’s become of War and Peace of fetish fiction.  She now sits just short of sixteen thousand words, and in another fifteen hundred I’ll have to get out my passport and entered the Country of Novella, and I hear the greasy chuckle from here.

If you wonder what I’m talking about, read the afterword to Stephen King’s Different Seasons collection, where three of the four included stories have become some of King’s best adapted movie.  One of the lines he uses is, “Now, artistically speaking, there’s nothing at all wrong with the novella.  Of course, there’s nothing wrong with circus freaks, except that you rarely see them outside of the circus.”  You get the point.

At the time King wrote those words (1982 or there about), finding a market for novellas was damn near impossible.  There were only a hand full of magazines that would tackle those stories, and by the end of the 1980’s they pretty much went the way of the dinosaur.  Or did they?  Just wait . . .

So rather than eight thousand words of hotness, I’m more like double that pleasure, and it’s likely I’ll start tripping into the twenty thousand lane before everything is over.  Been there, done that:  in fact, some fetish fiction I sold a couple of years back went the same way.  They were fantasy stories that ended up being long novelettes or short novellas, and after four of them I stopped because, at the time, I figured no one was ever going to read them outside of a few people who were into that sort of thing.

Now, about that place to publish . . .

So many publishing outlets dried up in the late Twentieth Century, but fast forward to the end of the first decade of the Twenty-first Century, and one sees self publishing taking off.  I remember people saying, “I ain’t buying one of those new fangled ebooks–only the real thing for me!” and emotions ran pretty high on both sides–but I knew that tech is one of those things that tend to stick around if they’re good, and ebooks were good.  I even bought one, and though I don’t use it much these days–I need a new battery–there are enormous advantages to having one–

Liking being able to take your kid to their soccer meet and sit in the stands reading Daddy’s Little Milk Maid and not worry in the least that you’re going to skev out everyone sitting around you.

It was Penn Jillette who pointed out that all new technology leads to porn.  After the Gutenberg Bible came a printing of the Karma Sutra; after the first movies came Le Coucher de la Mariée, a seven minute movie of a women doing a strip tease in a bathhouse, filmed in 1896, followed by El Sartorio, the first film to show sex acts, filmed in Argentina in 1907.  We have the Internet and . . . you really need to know?

With ebooks came eporn, and big or small, it sells.

Will my fantasy story sell.  Only time will tell.  Or not–

That timey whimy crap, I tell you.