Monthly Archives: February 2012

Girls Who Write Boys Who Dig Boys Who Like Girls

You know the tune to sing to that, right?

If not, here you go.  Thank me later for the incredible ear worm.

Our talk today is about–you guessed it, girls who write boys who dig boys.  Don’t be discombobulated by my sketchy title.

Recently, I wrote a short gay erotica after reading some of the same.  For one, I like to flex my writing muscle, try new things, all that jazz.  My mom asked me, “How would you even know how to write that?”

Yeah, that’s right; I told my mom I was writing gay smut.  She’s my mom.  She has to love me no matter how far off the charts I go.  Besides, it’s just fun to see what she says.  If she wants to spend more time with her bible-thumping daughter, she’s entitled, but so far my writing proclivities haven’t boomeranged her in that direction.

Anyway, I didn’t tell her that I’ve done all the shit I write about; therefore, it’s really not too tough to write about.  Shock her, yes.  Give her a heart attack with confessions about blow jobs and anal sex—no.  Even I have my boundaries.

But, really, is it a huge stretch to imagine what two hot gay guys might get up to with a tube of lube and all the time in the world?  Nope.  In fact, a large percentage of M/M erotica authors are women.  Yes, men write it too, but the chicks are well represented.  And why not?

Is there some rule that non-lawyers can’t write a legal thriller?  Those without a medical background are incapable of producing the next Patricia Cornwell-esque novel?  Non-pet owners shouldn’t write characters who own dogs?As anything, you must do your homework.  The old adage, “write what you know” applies to an extent; in that, if you don’t know, you better find out.  Research–online, real live books, ask friends, whatever.  I wish I had a close gay friend so I could pick his brain.  And ask him for fashion advice.  But I don’t—yet.  So for now, I’ll stick to reading what others have written, trolling forums, and watching porn.

I’ll also keep DVR-ing Dr. G for when I get around to my autopsy mystery masterpiece.  You never know.


Not to deviate too much from my topic, I also wanted to address the believability of females writing male characters and vice versa.  I read a blog post a little while back in which a woman was bashing a male author who had written from a female character’s POV.  Her beef was that he, apparently, did not have the slightest idea how women talk, think, behave, etc.  I did not read the original, so can’t weigh in on it.  I do, however, write horror on occasion, and I wonder if men generally shy away from female horror authors?  Also, do they dislike reading fiction with a female main character and/or dislike when women authors write from a male POV?

Just some thoughts, and if anyone has theories on this, lay it on me.  I am stone-cold curious.


On a side note, I’m so glad they are letting that big ole lobster go free.  The guy that eats that bad boy would probably die immediatly of mercury poisoning anyway.  Bury ‘im with the plastic bib still on and melted butter running out of his nose.

Sirens Call Publications’ Horror E-zine just out…

And the first issue is up for grabs–gratis–for a limited time!  Check out some fun new voices in horror, excellent chilling photography, and insight into the writing/publishing/editing world all for free!

My bizarro flash fiction ‘Mental Floss’ was graciously included in this zine so go snap up your download before the lovely ladies at Sirens Call change their minds!

Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Alien Sex

Or more accurately, I love writing alien sex.  I might love getting otherworldly snoo-snoo, but so far the opportunity hasn’t presented its bright red orangutan ass.  If you see any aliens, send them my way, and I can make an informed decision.

Lately, I’ve been balls-deep into writing alien erotica.  Not reading it, so much; although, I have enjoyed perusing it in the past.  Actually, I just discovered how sizzlin’ hot male/male erotica is, and I think I have a new past-time as a result…but that is another post.  Back to the aliens.

“Why, Kimber?  Why aliens, when there are plenty of sexy men right here on earth,” you ask?  Welllllll, allow me to blast you with my stun-gun of logic…Bend over.

1.  My number one reason is that I can come up with a bonus word for the male genitalia.  Don’t get me wrong, I love me some cock.  I bet if I searched for “cock” in my current 40,000 word WIP it would beat out “the” for most-used word.  Dick is okay.  Pole; good.  Rod; better.  Meat stick; only for special occasions.  Penis; gag me with one.  I rarely, if ever, use it.  Just too clinical.  You won’t catch me throwing a vulva in there either.  Nothing sexy about those words, in my opinion.  But if your space man calls it a xord on his planet, you get another word to use in your sex scenes.  And believe me, an extra word comes in mighty handy when the damn thing keeps popping out of his space pants.

My xord wants you.

Tell me that doesn’t sound a million times hotter than the same sentence only with the “P” word.

2.  Earth Girls Are Easy.  Or maybe they are delightfully plumper than the skinny bitches on Planet Z.  Maybe cooler, with their pink mohawks and tattoos.  Maybe their Earth Girl accents just make his xord want to come out and play in a way he’s never sexperienced before.  Whatever–aliens love us because we are a flava totally different from the PB&J they are eating at home.  We are freakin’ Filet Mignon.

3.  Aliens can look like ANYTHING I want them to.  I think it–they are it.  If you’ve got one of those freaky Smurf fetishes I’ve heard about twice now in the past week (“Where the hell are you surfing, Kimber???”  That is another post once again, but the water is just fine, let me tell ya), well then, blue aliens it is, you twisted little kinkster, you!  You want a 1980 Arnold Swarzenegger body with a 1980 Mel Gibson face?  Done (and done).  The universe is your oyster, baby!  Make that clam clammy however you can.  So long as they don’t sparkle, it’s all gravy.

4.  Spaceships are fuckin’ hot.  You like a big fictional stud on a motorcycle, done up in leather?  Then how does a space motorcycle shake your coconuts?  And space leather, whatever that is?  Let your imagination run wild, you crazy monkey!  Schhhhwwinngg.

5.  Maybe the real aliens can actually download Amazon books with their fancy WiFi bending satellites.  Kinda like that 80’s movie where the aliens liked watching old “I Love Lucy” reruns.  Real aliens could be my largest readership demographic.  They’d be looking down the front of their E.T. pj’s at their tiny schlorts and saying, “Can you believe how huge earthlings think our xords are?  I love this chick!”

6.  They can get off in any color.  Even sparkles.

7.  They’re aliens.  They can’t knock up the earth girls, so no need for the awkward condom fumble before the hanky-panky.  And then, of course, it turns out that they do knock up the girl because in some intergalactic freak of nature, our genetic material is unthinkably compatible.  That’s a given.

8.  That movie “Paul.”  Even that little guy was hot in his own I-don’t-give-a-fuck way.  And he could totally dance.  As long as he has Seth Rogen’s voice, I’d hit that and make him talk dirty to me the whole time.  Probably wouldn’t take too long, either.

9.  SUPER POWERS!!!  We all want ’em.  We all get hot for the guy (or girl) that has ’em.  They kick ass, and the options are only limited by your imagination.  Don’t think that aliens with super powers are believable?  Well Super Man just punched your face for that, but the man in tights aside, I challenge you to find me an alien who can’t grow a second schlong when the tune to “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush” is hummed in his ooveet.  For those that think ooveet is his asshole, get your mind out of the gutter.  It’s a freakin’ ear.  Even more difficult, I dare you to produce a sextraterrestrial that canNOT give perfect, toe-curling, real chow even on his maiden voyage to Vulva Land.  It’s impossible–because aliens are just that good.

Don’t defy me.

10.  Mork.  ‘Nuff said.

So, there you have it.  Now go out there and write some alien porn if you are so inspired.  Just don’t steal my monkey-leather-wearing, space-chopper-ridin’ Cousin Arnold idea.  That crap is copyrighted as of this posting.  Sorry.

The (Real) Problem with Romance Novels

I was led to a lovely little blog via an erotica author on twitter.  The blog author is an unpublished Sci/Fi writer, but states that he “will write anything that pays” for his questionable eating habits (except Romance, I surmise).  His blog post is entitled “The Problem with Romance Novels” and I won’t paraphrase here–the link is below so you can get it straight from the donkey’s mouth.   

I read through the entire post and all the comments and felt spurred to throw my own voice into the ring.  At the time, I figured that the all-powerful Cale McWhatskey would delete my comment as I failed to agree with him. 

I checked back a few days after launching my comment, to see if he had a reply for me, but the blog master had added a final statement of his own, saying, approximately, that he would no longer be posting/replying to comments as he was tired of repeating himself and couldn’t waste any more time on the subject matter.  It was truly magnanimous of him to post on the dubious merits of the romance genre in the first place, I’d say.

As of right now, he seems to have removed his ban on comments to allow another that shares his narrow view to take up residence.  And he seems to have gotten his second wind as far as replying, so long as you agree with him.

Well, this is my blog, and I can respond right here.  Hoorah for free speech and free blog fodder.  Thank you, Oh McWise One, for making my blogging day.

Here is the link to the original blog post, followed by my response.  If anyone cares to comment, feel free to do so.  I promise not to post only the comments from my boot-licking friends. 🙂

My comment:

I realize your goal is to cause a stir here because even negative attention is still attention.  That’s blogging 101.  Not sure they teach that in Harvard

Anyway, kudos.  Here I am.

I love your “grown women should be over that” argument.  I wonder if you lump erotica in with romance or if that is a steaming pile all on its own, but either way, romance has sex scenes, graphic or no, and is therefore, completely inappropriate for “little girls.”

Furthermore, romance/erotica frequently has sub genres, like the paranormal you mentioned, and sci/fi, suspense, fantasy, or even horror.  The author not only has to write an engaging spec. fic., or historically accurate Regency, but she/he also has to get the emotional/physical love part right.  So said author is taking your chosen genre one step further.

Is everyone who gets published Hemingway or Poe (and I’m sure you hate them, too)?  Of course not.  That reality goes for all genres, as you are doubtless aware.

Ought grown men to be done with Sci/Fi after their comic book days are over?  Or does still living in one’s mother’s basement make reading the genre acceptable?  Seriously, a woman could lose herself in a Romance story and be swept up by a perfect, fictitious, male character, or she could hang with the likes of you. 

I don’t care how big your… wallet is; hand me the book.  If men were as fantastic, in reality, as those in romance novels, I would totally read F. Scott Fitzgerald while receiving my post cunnilingus foot rub.  Your mere existence makes romantic fiction an absolute necessity for the female of the species.


So, that is the whole of it.  And it brings us full circle to the real problem with romance novels.  That is, the delicious men of fiction make real guys seem even more intolerable.  Alas, keep reading and keep looking, Ladies.  And don’t settle for the dregs. 

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