Wednesday, March 31, 2010
When I started this story, I was in too dark a mood to continue the story of Mrs Prendergast and her offer of enlightenment. I decided she would have to wait.
I was having one of those death-ridden days when I wished I was a theist, but the only spirits that moved me were the ones who came and whispered their stories in my ear.
This story began with the voice of a woman saying “He always starts by brushing my hair.”
She wouldn't go away, so I started to write.
I initially thought she would lead me into a story of dominance and submission. The working title was "The Bone Cage" and was meant to be about how she transcended the constraints of her mortal flesh.
As I wrote, the story started to change. Firstly the female narrator was a stronger, more up-beat person that I'd imagined. Secondly the man in the story demanded a name. "He" was no longer good enough, he wanted to be a character in his own right and not just a foil to make the woman more interesting. I christened him "Owen" and suddenly I had a tale about a couple. My mood lightened and instead of a gloomy doom-laden story, I produced a piece that is about a small woman and a large man who are fascinated with each other.
I put the piece through the writers' workshop at the Erotic Readers and Writers Association - (ERWA - a great list if you want to improve your writing - you can join here). The feedback on the list was that I'd written a love story. This was a first for me, so I was a little bit surprised, especially as the word "love" is never mentioned, but I read it again and discovered that they were right.
So, if you want to add a little love to your life, drop in at Clean Sheets and read "Sex With Owen".
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Do not select a gadget called "Amazon Cloud" as a widget in the gadget section of Blogger. Although it's available via the blogger site, it is actually malware that redirects your visitors to a different site (who knows what else it does)
This malware plays upon the fact that you can't delete a page element in Layout without going into Edit. Edit triggers the divert before you can delete the gadget.
The only way I found around this was to find the widget in the HTML and delete it there.
It's a know issue at Blogger but it still pisses me off. Here's the address of the webpage I got diverted to. If anyone out there knows a way to send these guys a server-killing virus, you'd be doing the blogsphere a favour.
The next part of this piece of Victorian-era erotic is now up on my story site. In this chapter, Tom Thornton discovers what it means to be "purified" before the ceremony that promises him enlightenment
You can find the story here
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Ket me know what you think.
Flasher: Unoriginal Sin
© Mike Kimera 2010
There was a time
When my flesh saluted every young girl
Who smiled at me
Or absent-mindedly lifted her hair off her neck
Or rested a pencil on her plump lower lip
When all my blood raced for one woman
With dark, serious eyes
Who saw who I was and chose me anyway
Opening herself like a flower beneath a bee
When laughter was the soundtrack to our sex
Every bed, sofa, and table
Risked collapse under the weight of raucous ruts
That left us inextricably entwined
There came a time when
My lust-noose tightened for the forbidden
Flesh I had no right to knowledge of
Offered ripe and ready and without restraint
Swallowing me whole and leaving us broken
My heart held tight to forgiveness
Unspoken and undeserved
Dispensed with gentle touches and sad smiles
That left me drowning in her hurt-filled eyes
My mind marveled that my body could betray
All that made it sing
For some moments of intense release
That were not escape but panicked flight
My atheist soul whispers a prayer of praise
For strong, tenacious, abused love
That held me when I let go of myself
And daily grants me redemption
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
It's about a young Colonial Administrator, on his last night of Home Leave in London, who is introduced to a woman with a mysterious gift.
"Had it not been for a chance meeting with Carstairs on the steps of his club, I might have left London without incident and returned the Colonial Civil Service with a greater quietude of mind than that which I was subsequently able to achieve. But tranquillity is not all of life. Chance led me to Carstairs, who brought me to Mrs. Prendergast and her acolytes. She opened my eyes to a world that I had previously only brushed against blindly in half remembered dreams and I remain thankful to her for that."
I had intended this to be about 3,000 words or so but I hadn't reckoned with the pace of Victorian life. I think I've gotten inside the head of the narrator but in doing so I've discovered that he is not to be rushed. This means that the story is likely to be in three or four pieces and becomes almost a novella.
The first two pieces are written and the third is on its way.
You can find the first part on my story site here. I'll post the second part in the next few days.
I'd be delighted if you let me have your comments on the story on my site.