smut nerds, birthday party, reading about war

My bad attitude vanished completely the minute I walked into Good Vibes. I wasn’t late. A ton of people were there. And the readings were great!

Violet Blue read a playful sexy, zombie story – I was giggling madly on the line “Fuck me, I’m a zombie princess!” as it reminded me eerily of my own life. Violet’s blog never fails to amuse!

Greta Christina‘s story was brilliant. I liked Carol’s short-short too and wanted to ask her if she had read The Golden Lotus i.e. “plum in the golden vase”. I would bet that yes she has, or at least knows of it and was referring to it with her story! I remembered the first time I read one of her stories – it was, i think, in frighten the horses – and how excited I got at, well, at actual literary quality and on the cool gender complexity in there. It was the short story about the femmy dyke and the leather fag. And that sort of story was what I was trying to write at the time, because I wasn’t seeing it out there (the stuff in 80s on our backs, oh, my god, mostly it was so lame!) but I really wasn’t there yet, I wasn’t such a polished writer (and I’m still not!) Anyway, I remember (this is like, 1991 or so??) jumping around making lots of predictions and prophecies based on that story and they have come more than true! (Think of the huge excitement we had over Macho Sluts, and the writing, well… but it was the only good thing out there. And then susie’s books. Antidotes, much needed, to the paltry collection of yawnworthy lesbian erotica out there after the Sex Wars… Now, it’s a huge industry!) Greta’s writing, to me, bumps it up a notch the same way that carol’s did (for me) in the early 90s…. it is really excellent, and everyone who likes good & challenging writing, kinky or not, should read her novella “Bending”. Her story tonight, one about a professor (male) and a college student (female) gave me the same feeling. Without being didactic, it worked on so many levels – it was great as sexy, intelligent porn, it was great writing (and I usually hate present tense storytelling, but it worked!) and you could write a 30 page term paper on it and throw all your postmodern theory in there, quite pleasantly, and talk about gender and power. (And, obviously, that makes it Better.) I love hearing or reading something and getting that feeling that it is destined to be classic.

So, I was sort of in past my depth reading with people who are professional smut writers, and I’m totally not, which made me feel silly to be there taking up space; and yet I had a great time, was entertaining, people seemed to enjoy it and laughed at the right places. I stumbled on some words but did a reasonably good job of being loud, not going too fast, looking at the audience. (Most of all – I had a good time…) I thought it might be too serious or dark or something. though there are bits supposed to make you laugh. And also, it is not written according to the Rules of Porn. But, okay anyway!

Mark read today’s post on his blog, a story whose key is a thing rather brave to say about realizing that he was a customer all along on some level. Mark, I was a dancer and felt like a customer too, don’t worry. Also, your 40s is not like some old fogey boring-time, give me a break! You’re what, maybe 8 years older than me? It is almost the prime of life (50s) when you get to sit back and all the hot young things cluster round and adore you for your fabulous work. RIGHT??? That’s what I’ve been planning, so you better show me a good example. Pam, oh hell I have forgotten her name, Rosenthal? but she was … well, we were all poking each other about how she was super hot (in exactly that prime of life way that makes the hot young things swoon and go “pretty professor!!!”) and in my corner of the room a bunch of literary girlies all burst into giggles at the idea put forth in the story – about Emily Dickinson’s underwear and the poem “I like a look of Agony -”.

I forgot to:
- really introduce lilycat and G. (or do they know each other?)
- get the cute Emily-Dickinson-loving girl’s email (oh well…)
- buy anything
- impress anyone with my sparkling wit and intelligence
- mention my blog or anything recent of mine published (doh!)
- didn’t go to Borderlands, everything was very crowded and parking would have been impossible

On the street some really really cute familiar-looking women were giving me a starry-eyed smile and I turned dorky and shy and just kinda went “uh, hi” as I realized they were wanting to come up and talk because they had just heard me read. Gah! Rewind!

I would have very much liked to have seen A. Murguia read (declaim, really) and also Daisy Zamora.

Back in the glorious Homeland, I swooped down on Jo and Manny’s party — devoured indian food and cake — talked to everyone — squeezed all the straight women that I love squeezin’ — played with kids — I missed watching Rook do Dance Dance Revolution, alas. Jo showed me Scrine, which is lovely — Rook went home to fall asleep in bed with his glasses & the light on – As people left the party, the kids settled into a hiding & finding game that involved spanking and/or running around grabbing your own buttocks and declaring, “I don’t want you to spank my tushie!” Moomin and I drifted home after 10. Asthma meds, toothbrushing, reading of “The Winter Picnic”, a charming story about a mom owning up to how she didn’t listen to the little kid – they finally have his picnic in the snow with snow plates and cups – Some conversation about penguins – the bats came down off the bunk bed rafters and began their nocturnal day. Baby bat: “flap flap, oops! Ow!” Mama bat (acted by Moomin): “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to fly on your own soon.” Baby bat: “I know. Thanks.” (the 2 bats then snuggle.) Awwwwwww! I started crying quietly – as I often do when he makes his animals act out really nice parenting roles.

Oh yeah! Dragonboy’s awesome punky artbabe green-haired mom’s cousin is in Bloodhag! What a coincidence?!

Now, to the bath, with General Crook in Tuscon! They’ve just had a horrible campaign against the Apaches. Hideous suffering. Brutal war. Everyone dies. Arrows. Bullets. Field amputations. Raids & retaliations. Boulders rolled from cliffs. Insane details of how to make a good mule packsaddle, with spanish/arabic etymology. (An AWESOME book. My dad always has the best books!!) The author’s ranting about government screwups; it’s just like the hurricane, but worse, with outright war. The General himself seems like a decent guy. Right when the Apaches (the ones who were left) settled in to some nice land and dug a 5 mile long irrigation ditch and their crops were growing, the govt. changed its mind and made them all move to someplace crappy, and then they tried raising sheep, but the govt. suppliers didn’t buy them, instead using outside contractors. Since there was no one else around to buy, the sheep-raising failed as a road to prosperity…

Oh yeah. and my stomach was feeling a lot better thurs. and friday, but now it hurts like hell all day today. Quite horrible. gallstones? ulcers?

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2 Responses to “smut nerds, birthday party, reading about war”

  1. g.



    i totally know lilycat already. you are awesome.

  2. whump



    I think Rook or I will have to work that line from Violet’s story into a future Buffy episode.

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