Sunday, 13 March 2011

Writing About Sex

I appear to have been indulging my darker side in writing recently, and a fair bit of what I've been writing has involved sex of some kind. In fact, you could term some of the pieces I have written erotica. This is interesting in a number of ways, not least of which how I feel about it.

I'm quite uncomfortable about that act of writing about sex. I have no problem writing a scene in which my characters fight their way through a group of soldiers, even though I have zero real-life expertise in that area and that more than likely shows. Get me writing about two characters getting it on however, and I'll blush and generally demand that nobody read the result, not even myself, lest I be shown to be a laughing stock, even though I have far more experience in this matter.

This probably stems from a few things. One is the idea that someone will read what I've written and tell me that it's not realistic; that what I've described can't actually happen. This is, to be fair, unlikely. There's also the idea that by sharing this writing I am sharing some intimate part of myself. This just isn't true. My characters are not me. They may contain aspects of me, but they are separate entities. If I write about a character who is racist, it doesn't mean that I myself am racist. In the same way, if I write about a character having sex, it doesn't reflect my specific thoughts or experiences of sex. Nonetheless, the nature of the subject at hand somehow makes it feel like it's that way.

I recently plucked up the courage to share a short piece of writing with some friends which was based around two characters having sex. I was nervous about sending it to them, and feared what they would think of me after they had read it. All of them liked it though, and they all gave good feedback. Part of me was actually taken aback by this. I almost wanted to shout at them, 'What are you talking about? It's sex! I just wrote about two people having sex! You should be appalled by this! Be appalled!'

I suspect a large part of this comes down to the normal British prudishness, mixed with the fact that I was quite firmly in my shell until a couple of years ago. Of course, it probably wouldn't do to have sex thrown about willy nilly (hee, I just said willy), and there's a time and a place. Still, it interests me that we can have such a stigma around writing about this particular subject when it's a normal part of life, and when that time and place comes around surely we should be able to accept it like adults instead of giggling in the corner like schoolchildren?

I'm warning you, I've got a very nasty notion.

Thursday, 10 February 2011

REVIEW: Black Swan

This movie is so fucked up that it made me faint. First Requiem For A Dream, and now this? What is wrong with your mind, Darren Aronofsky? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR MIND?

Monday, 31 January 2011

Cookie Guns

A couple of friends were talking on Twitter earlier about kitchen utensils, and one mentioned a cookie gun. My thoughts immediately lept to a gun that shot mini cookies instead of bullets. Of course, reality smashed its way in just a few seconds later to remind me that such a thing wouldn't actually exist. Which makes me sad, as I bet a cookie gun would work much better than a regular gun:

Man 1: Get your hands off my woman, you no-good varmint!

Man 2: Why should I? What are you going to do about it?

Man 1: This! *shoots gun*

Man 2: Ha! You fool! Instead of a bullet, your gun shot a cookie at me! And now instead of dying, I shall eat the delicious cookie! *noms cookie*

Man 1: HA! You forgot to ask what type of cookie it is!

Man 2: Why, it appears to be some sort of chocolate chip cookie.

Man 1: Not quite. It's actually a POISON chip cookie!

Man 2: Oh no! *dies*

Just pause for a second, and imagine how much more awesome the lobby shootout scene in The Matrix would be if all the guns shot out cookies. Way more awesome, am I right?

So I'm dissatisfied; I love dissatisfied.
I love to feel there's always more that I need.

Sunday, 30 January 2011


Hangovers are an evil, evil thing, and quite how their presence remains tolerated in society I do not know. Surely by now we should have driven them out with pitchforks and torches, cursing them for what they have done to us and allowing them to torment us no more.

Yes, I may have been out drinking last night.

Sure, there are people who will tell you that it is wrong to hate hangovers. They'll tell you that hangovers can't help what they are, that they don't have a choice in what they do in life. I can understand that hangovers may not exactly want to be what they are. But do they really have to share that misery with us? To come along when we're already feeling a bit rough and hit us while we're down? No. Hangovers serve no real purpose in modern society, and their insistence in sticking around and bringing the rest of us down has gone on for too long. We need to strike, and remove them from our lives once and for all. It needs to be done right now, for the good of us all.

Only, y'know, someone else do it. I've got a bit of a headache and need a lie down.

(Sorry. I'll try and post something proper in a day or two)

Gimme the reason why the mind's a terrible thing to waste.

Sunday, 23 January 2011

Starting Up Again

So... it's been a while.

I've been thinking about starting this blog up again a bit lately. The problem is that I haven't really known what I could write about beyond one or two posts, and I didn't want to fall into the situation where I post once or twice and then promptly stop and leave this blog to die again.

I like the idea of having a blog. I like the idea of having some kind of home on the internet; a little corner of it that I can call my own. As great as Twitter is, there are times when the 140 character limit just isn't conducive to what you want to do, and you need somewhere else to collect your thoughts. The main problem comes when I try to write a blog post, and find that I end up putting down most of the topics I can think of as not being interesting enough.

What I really need is a deadline. So I'm imposing one upon myself. From now on I'm going to force myself to post at least once a week (and this time I mean it). I might post a review, or some short fiction, or random musings on something. If I get to Sunday and I haven't thought of anything, I'll probably end up writing something about whatever comes to mind first.

I'm not saying that it'll always be brilliant, and I might end up confirming my guy instinct that what I have to say isn't interesting. But hopefully it will be interesting, and more in the spirit of the name of this blog.

So, mark your calendars. Next week: the All-New, All-Different Random Thought Experiments. Prepare yourself.

Dreams of long life
What safety can you find?