(no subject)

( When you ask someone to beta read, what do you expect from them?  )

This PSA brought to you by the intense relief felt when I realized I had a deadline date wrong and didn't have to post a shitty story tonight after all! I have a day to fiddle with it and make it better!

he done me wrong

In Mr. Glove's other life, the one where I am less central and perhaps more burdensome, he has many friends who know me only by some sort of "reputation." This strangely non-jedcentric version of the Mr. has his own LJ where he discusses things like Serious Art, punk rock, and being an electronics nerd. Today in this journal, not only did he hotlink my "hair" triptych photo that I posted yesterday, but the entry is f-locked and I can't even see what people are saying about me!!!!! I do know that he referred to me as a cult leader and pornographer, which I find immensely flattering, and I want to be able to invade his journal in order to Make Friends and Influence People (or argue with them), but I am barred from doing so.

He also spent about an hour today flirting with our mutal crush, Coffee Rachel, who was apparently looking very good. We refer to her as Coffee Rachel to distinguish her from the other fine examples of cherished Racheliana in our lives. Coffee Rachel is a writer and apparently wants someone who knows something of writing to read and help edit her work. Mr. Glove told me this somewhat reluctantly, as he could easily anticipate the "I am so in there!" gleam in my eye. I anticipate that we will go together to visit Coffee Rachel tomorrow, and that we will likely make fools of ourselves while trying to outdo each other in charm and smarm. I do have the editing edge, however. Mr. Glove is a bad speller and unclear on comma usage.

it is not a yam

I had this nice, long post typed up in the stupid update window and then my browser just...closed. Went away. The web-based update is not now, nor has it ever been, my friend.

I would wager that I am the only person I know who has a sprouted sweet potato sitting on her desk. The delicate, tender sprouts tremble in the breeze from the vent overhead. I found it in the back of a pantry cupboard and I know it's garbage, but it was just too strange and pretty to throw out without memorializing it in some way. ( It is truly a thing of beauty. )

After her visit, gothphyle left me with a book, The Erotic Edge: Erotica for Couples, as compiled by Lonnie Barbach, PhD. Please note, Alee did not recommend this book. I have read half of the stories and I have yet to find anything "erotic." I have, however, read many euphemistic references to nether regions and a great deal of stilted dialogue. In the foreword, the editor describes the reader's dilemma when it comes to erotic writings as being between "decency" and "lusty sexuality." Oh, man. Decency.

It's nearly entirely het, half written by men and half by women. None of them are good writers, so the editor's suggestion that we play a little game by trying to figure out whether a man or a woman wrote a given story is rendered uncompelling by the lack of story quality. Once again, I learn that women like reading about intimacy and hate any overtones of violence or crudity (it's because we're decent, yo!) Men, what with their visual fixation, like to write and read about pink parts squooshing together with an explicitness that may abrade a woman's tender sensibilities. For instance, as a woman, I should find "pink parts" and "abrade" together in a sentence distastefully violent.

The editor is supposed to be some sort of sexpert, though I'm not exactly sure what her credentials are. She does admit to a bias when it came to choosing stories for this volume, but she presents those same biases as facts when describing the differences between men's and women's interests and preferences.

In order for an "emotional" scene to resonate with me instead of just seeming hysterical and trite, there needs to be character development. Someone placing "his hardness" against "her moist sex" while they call each other darling is not really what I'd call emotional writing.

*has tantrum re: published erotica*

~~~

Went to get a cup of coffee at coffeeshop (Coffee Rachel was not there). Saw an acquaintance I haven't seen in months. She looked at me, shocked, and said, "Are you shrinking?"

Yay!

~~~

back to work.

p.s. It is okay to laugh at the potato glamour shot.