Monthly Archives: March 2012

Inside the Author’s Mind – Steven Marty Grant

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Feminist Porn Awards 2012

It’s that time of year again. No, I don’t mean tax time … I’m talking porn time.

Good For Her is Toronto's premiere store for women and their admirers who want high quality sex toys, books, DVDs, workshops, sensual art, and much more.

Over the past month, I’ve holed myself up to watch porn—lots and lots of porn as part of a  jury for the Feminist Porn Awards. This is my second year doing it; you can read about my experience from last year here.

It’s been fun, but it isn’t easy watching porn back to back, or front to back, or side to side, or upside down for that matter—so many positions to keep track of. ;) Okay, I jest, but it’s hard work that has some perks.

I reviewed approximately thirty movies and twenty websites, rating them on their level of erotic appeal and whether I saw anything groundbreaking or exceptional. The nominees this year were excellent and reconfirmed for me there are as many sexual preferences as there are people.

Vive la différence, I say.

You can find out more about the 7th Annual Feminist Porn Awards, where I’ll be presenting an award.

The festivities begin April 18th, and the Awards Gala is April 20th. Get your tickets now and hope to see you there!

eden

Related post:
Slideshow of event which took place April 20, 2012 found here.

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Raising Funds and Raising Hope

Today, I write a personal post called Raising Funds and Raising Hope” on my author’s collective, Black Ink, White Paper.

eden

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Musical Mondays – The Jam – A Town Called Malice

Love this song and the lyrics, and it’s fitting as I’m not having a love affair with my city at the moment.

” … And stop apologizing for the things you’ve never done;
Cos time is short and life is cruel -
but it’s up to us to change
This town called malice… “

eden

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Inside the Author’s Mind – Maria Savva

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Musical Mondays – Gotan Project – Santa Maria (Del Buen Ayre)

Tango anyone? Dangerously seductive for a Monday.

Thanks to Mick and Gail for introducing me to this piece. ;)

eden

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Earthly Concerns by Xavier Axelson

Xavier Axelson is an erotica author I connected with recently who writes in the M/M genre. His work has been described as compelling and edgy, and his latest book, Earthly Concerns is due out shortly. Please give him a warm welcome as he provides more details about his new book.

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Xavier Axelson is a writer and columnist living in Los Angeles.  His columns include interviews with counterculture celebrities, artisans, singers, writers, performance artists, politicians, and activists.  While his writing has been called, “raw, dirty, and absolutely beautiful,” Xavier hopes to push boundaries of what is expected in the M/M erotic genres.

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Earthly Concerns is an erotic nightmare, with a fable element.  It really is a story about the power of generosity, generosity of spirit and the price of selfishness.  While there is an erotic romance involved, there are forces at work in the story that scare me and hopefully will frighten readers too.

Between love and loss, there is obligation…

It was a peaceful night when Barrett and his daughter were driving home… then something happened.  Something sinister.

Between shadow and light, there is uncertainty…

Now the only person Barrett can turn to for help is Anson, a man gifted with psychic abilities beyond reason. But Anson is also his ex-boyfriend, a man whose heart he’d already broken.

If you can see, you have to help.

As Anson delves deeper into the circumstances surrounding Barrett’s accident, he begins to realize that he’s not only in a race against time, but in a battle against his own broken heart and the terrifying understanding that whatever has taken Barrett’s child is a force of evil beyond anything either man has ever encountered.

And between decision and consequences, there are… Earthly Concerns

Buy Earthly Concerns HERE

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Read an excerpt:

How could I just go over, and if I did, would I just be stumbling back into the pit of snakes I had just narrowly escaped the first time?  I thought this and a hundred other dangerous thoughts until I saw him begin to stand up. I waved him down, then went over and sat down.

Apparently, I thought the best course of action was to dive right in, avoid any further uncomfortable thoughts from belching up from the cesspool that I was creating in my skull.

“Tell me everything,” I blurted, trying to avoid looking into his eyes.

“You look good, all hot and cute,” he said, trying to maintain his smile, but the weight of his sadness was too intense. Instead, he managed a pained grimace.

“Thanks.” I wanted to say more, return the compliment, but found I couldn’t; he was a keen listener and would be able to detect any false sentiment I might throw out. I stared down at the menu and tried to ignore my heart, which had once again taken up its incessant thrumming.

“Thanks for coming,” he said.

I didn’t look up, but could feel him staring at me.

When the waitress came over, we ordered. Without the menu to stare at, I looked up and past him.

“Anson.” He said my name like it was some sort of invocation.

Did he believe he was dreaming?  I could only imagine the nightmare of not knowing where your child is and if she would ever come back.

“Tell me everything,” I repeated, my voice steady. I lowered my eyes and faced him; and seeing his sadness, I swallowed hard.

“It’s unreal,” he said, this time looking away from me, his eyes glistening. “I’m not sure I know what’s happened.”

The waitress arrived with two small cups of clear broth with some vegetables in them and refilled our waters.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes riveted on him. I couldn’t believe I was sitting across from him in the same place I had met him once before; the day he wanted to return a t-shirt I had left at his place after one of our interludes.

Even now, looking beaten and tormented, the man somehow managed to provoke me in ways other men hadn’t. I saw him as beautiful and felt my stomach lurch. I looked at his brown eyes that I remembered looking gold in the sun, and his oddly handsome face. Not a traditionally good looking face, but handsome in a bookish, learned way. I felt my body begin to respond.

Congratulations, Xavier on your new book! I wish you every success with it, eden

Connect with Xavier

Website        Facebook        Twitter        Examiner.com

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Inside the Author’s Mind – Robert Chazz Chute

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It’s Only Words … Or is it?

This post contains words that may offend you. You’re an adult, proceed as you will.

I’m a lover of words—lyrics in songs, words in books, spoken word. I play word games, wince when someone mispronounces a word or uses an incorrect one, and I correct people’s grammar when they speak. In a word, I’m a snob. That doesn’t mean, however, I only use “polite and proper words.”

Words are fun for me. It’s a challenge to use the perfect words economically in any written piece. I write not to be misunderstood, rather than to be understood. There is a difference—subtle as it may be. As a writer of erotica, this is further complicated as sexuality has always been a taboo topic–one that can repulse, fascinate, and arouse. There are thousands of sex-related phrases and words in the English language ranging from the polite and poetic to the explicit and offensive. I’ll muse on a few points.

Are “bad” words always going to be bad words?
No, not according to history.

In 1966, the pioneer “bad boy of words,” comedian Lenny Bruce was arrested for saying nine words: ass, balls, cocksucker, cunt, fuck, motherfucker, piss, shit, tits.  In the seventies, comedian George Carlin had a whole routine based on “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.”  They were the last seven words in the list used by Lenny Bruce. Now, you can turn on the TV and listen to the radio at almost any time of day and hear these words. Depending on its context, you’ll either laugh, be turned on, or be offended.

Words are organic. They grow with the times and take on new meaning. Today, words like cocksucker, fuck, shit are commonplace in literature of almost every genre. Have we become immoral beings who’ve allowed these “bad” words to infiltrate the language? I don’t think so. I think it’s a combination of things which could include a more tolerant society and the fact that overuse of some of these words have weakened their impact.

Lenny Bruce arrested after saying the nine "bad" words.

How do words take on their meanings? 
We give power to them based on our own experiences. 

I love the word cunt and use it in my writing. I consider it a beautiful descriptor for the female genitalia. Put it in a different context, and it becomes the most offensive of epithets. The same word elicits both sensuality and vulgarity? How does that happen? It’s clearly not the word, but the volition or intent behind the writer or speaker or listener that affords the word its power … which brings me to the other “c” word that’s a hot topic currently—censorship.

By now, you’ve probably heard about the controversy surrounding the online payment company Paypal. It’s forcing online publishers such as Smashwords to remove all content containing bestiality, rape, and incest under the threat of withdrawing their service. Erotica writers were targeted. I received a letter from Smashwords saying if I had such content, I’d have to remove my book from their site.  Though I don’t write on these topics, the issues are far reaching and do not just affect erotica authors, even if we are the ones singled out at the moment. Think about it, if they were self-publishing today, others who would’ve been censored by Paypal’s decision would include: Vladamir Nabokov, Brett Easton Ellis, the Marquis de Sade, and whoever wrote the Bible.

Shame on you, Paypal. You are a third-party financial institution. You’re not my mother or my moral conscience. Don’t tell me what I can or cannot read, or what I can or cannot write. I can make that decision for myself, thank you very much.

I'm an atheist. Would it be okay if I banned the bible?

Update: Less than 24 hours after I posted this, Paypal has announced they are reversing their position. Maybe they heard me ranting?

Can similar words be used interchangeably and mean the same thing?
Yes, but they won’t feel the same.

Take the male genitalia, as an example. I’m convinced there are more words for this body part than for any other word in the English language. As my writing has matured, I rarely use anything other than cock. It’s the one that feels most natural, rolls off the tongue easily (I also love double entendres), and is invisible within the context of a story. The last thing you want to do is draw your reader’s attention away from the narrative’s eroticism by using words like: crotch cobra, fuckpole, crack hunter, swizzle stick, etc. All are metaphorically viable, but erotic? I don’t think so.

You KNOW this isn't the cock I was referring to.

There are fewer words to describe the female genitalia, but my preference is pussy or cunt. As with cock, there are any number of ridiculous synonyms for it, but I prefer to use adjectives to describe a woman’s pussy such as soft, hairy, shaven, etc.

Recently, I was on a trip with my best friend celebrating our birthdays. We went to Niagara-on-the Lake, wine country, and stayed at a lovely inn. We took pictures of everything in sight. She even insisted I take a picture with my pussy—as she called it. Though I was reluctant, I figured no one would mind. Thankfully the room was empty at the time, so I kneeled down, took a hold of my pussy and she snapped the photo.

Hope you like it.

eden

Me and my wild pussy.

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Musical Mondays – Republica – Ready to Go

Monday – another week. Are you ready to go?

eden

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Inside the Author’s Mind – Russell Blake

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100 Word Song ~ Have a Little Faith in Me

This is another entry for  ”100 Word Song” initiated by Lance of My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.

Rules: Write a 100-word story inspired by a song.

This week’s song is John Hiatt’s  “Have a Little Faith in Me.”

Follow Lance at @tlanceb on Twitter, and write your own story.
eden

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She winced, could barely look at him. “Do you really expect to please me with that?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he said in a squeaky high-pitched voice. His eyes glistened as he admired the raven-haired beauty. “You’ll see stars after this is over.”

She smirked, turned on her heel, and strutted into the washroom. Upon undressing, she prayed the lights would be off when she opened the door. They weren’t.

“Is this better?” He greeted her full frontal, naked, hands on his hips—all four feet of him.

Her eyes bulged, her hand flew to her chest. “Oh my god.”

* * * *

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Musical Mondays – AC/DC -Thunderstruck!

I just love these guys and Angus Young kills me in his schoolboy uniform. If this song doesn’t get you going, better check if you still have a pulse,

eden

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March Schedule

My March 2012 schedule is now up. You can find it under the Schedules tab.

eden

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