Janine Ashbless's Blog, page 125

Anthologising Blues

Helping create the Geek Love anthology has opened my eyes to a number of things. Not least the incredible difficulty of choosing which stories go in the final book. Lets just say I appreciate the work of other editors out there way more now!

Think about it. You put out a call for submissions. You want erotic geek stories, and you're determined to pick a fabulous selection. You're aware that your readership is likely to be a discerning one. So you just pick the best stories, right?

Wrong.

First, in any anthology you need variety. Your readers aren't clones, and won't all want the same things. You're going to have readers who like guys, and readers who like gals. You're going to have readers who love hardcore BDSM, and ones who skip past anything other than vanilla. And in a more general way, you need variety of voice - stories told in first person, stories told in third (and perhaps even second). Stories told from a male point of view, and stories told from a female. Hetero, gay, lesbian, and group sex. Poetic, literate, emotionally moving tales - and raunchy, in-your-face, I-need-a-cold-shower-after-this tales.

Variety of setting. Fifteen different stories set in a smalltown American comic book store, no matter how awesome each is on an individual level, will make for a turgid read. So you say: let's have some of everything right across the geek landscape! - tentacles and space opera, futuristic and fantasy and fairytale, bookish and scientific and techie and comics and superheroes and steampunk and MMORPGs....
Oh, and - apparently - coffee shops. That was a new one on me.

This is assuming that you get subs in each of these categories. You're at the mercy of your writers here.


That's when the problems really start. Because you've only got so many pages to fill.

What do you do when you've got a completely brilliant story that you just love, but it's not erotica? Or what if it's red-hot erotica, but not geeky? What if you have five different Cyberpunk tales, each a masterpiece, but only one about My Little Pony fans* - does a better but commonplace story lose out to one with a unique theme?Does one long story lose out to two short ones of equal callibre, so that more authors get a chance to showcase their work?Do you accept multiple stories from a single author, thus showcasing a reduced number of writers?
Every choice hurts. I'm pretty good at being mean to my fictional characters, but I hate being mean to real people.
I know this: we will be rejecting some GREAT stories. Stories that completely deserve publication. Stories that it has left me feeling gutted to say "no" to. But ones that for one reason or another, don't fit in the anthology.
And it's the editors' job to keep an eye on the big picture.


*Not a real-life example.

Northumberlandia

There's a new Earth Goddess on the block - and I've been to see her!


Northumberlandia, the Lady of the North, has just opened to the public, only a couple of hours from my front door. She's the largest human landscape form in the world: 1300 ft long, and 112ft high at the forehead. She was designed by Charles Jencks and cost £3 million to build, as part of the restoration landscaping of the Shotton Coal Mine. I was totally unsurprised to learn that the county council had refused the planning application ... but then it was allowed on appeal to central government.

Heh.
Let's hope she gets on with the Angel. You don't want those two having a dust-up... ;-)

This is what she looks like from the air (pic from official website). I think she's beautiful - and will be even more so when the bare patches grow over with the seeded grasses and wildflowers. She's apparently visible from planes flying in to Newcastle airport, and trains heading up the east coast to Edinburgh.


She has magnificent boobies!


Here's me standing on one, and trying not to get blown off by the vigorous Northumbrian breeze:


And here's her face:


And a hand:


I imagine that on Solstices you won't be able to move for tripping over pagans :-)

Eyecandy Monday

Well, after yesterday I had to pick this one!

Blasphemy

September 30th is International Blasphemy Day.



Which makes it sorta apposite that I went to see the new arena production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the weekend - which I enjoyed hugely, btw. Because when the musical was first staged on Broadway it was loudly condemned by Christians as offensive and blasphemous. Written without reference to the Resurrection, the two principal characters - Jesus and Judas - are portrayed as the only really sympathetic well-rounded people, and they're locked together in a self-destructive trajectory. Everyone else is either self-serving or sheep-like. Poor old Jesus himself is played as very human, worn-out, quite neurotic . . . and ultimately thoroughly fucked-over by everyone, including his God.

In song.




Even this week a production in Russia was closed down after protests from the Orthodox Church. Funnily enough, in the UK nowadays it's far more likely to be seen by Christians as an evangelising tool and a positive thing ...
People. They're just fucking weird.


Blasphemy. Yes, it's rude and mean and hurtful. It can cause enormous trouble.


Ironic...
Completely beyond irony
And in this world, blasphemy is not only unavoidable, it is utterly fucking necessary.

Quote by George Orwell.

Excerpt: Pussy Hunt

Lookee here! A brand new anthology out from Mischief Books. My Boyfriend's Boyfriends: a collection of greedy girl stories (their titles are getting longer every time, I swear) is full of filthy fun concerning women who aren't satisfied by just one guy at a time. So, basically, one of my FAVOURITE themes! And for only £0.99! (Or $1.64 if you are of an American persuasion.)
:-)

My own story is called Pussy Hunt and it's about a woman who challenges seven (yes, seven!) ex-Special Forces dudes to a woodland widegame.  I think she may be hoping to lose. There's an excerpt below...

The full author line-up, by the way, is as follows:

Proving Them Wrong - Primula Bond
Pussy Hunt - Janine Ashbless
Red Room - Lisette Ashton
Everybody's Favourite - Penny Birch
For Better . . . Or Better Yet - Chrissie Bentley
A Taste for Cheating - Heather Towne
Secrets and Seductions - Kathleen Tudor
The Overnighter - Elizabeth Coldwell
Anything She Wants - Giselle Renarde
The Proposal - Dominic Santi


And now I'm off to - ahem - catch  up on my reading :-)

‘Stay in the car for the moment,’ says Dane, opening the driver’s door.
   
I obey, watching as he walks out around the front, greeting the others. Ours isn’t the only Land Rover parked here in the trees and, like Dane, the other men are all dressed in camouflage greens. It’s momentarily hard to tell everyone apart. I squint through the windscreen, trying to identify faces I’ve only really seen in photos. There’s Lewis – I remember him from his daughter’s wedding. That was almost my first weekend away with Dane, over a year ago now. And that blond guy – he looks familiar. I think he was the one who sang karaoke to Nickleback’s ‘Rockstar’ at the reception.  But it was all a bit of a blur then, and I’d only had eyes for Dane at the time. If the others were at the wedding, I don’t remember.
   
They’re grasping hands, and thumping each other on the back, and sharing cigarettes. My mouth is dry, but I can feel myself sweating a little. My heart’s running fast. I thrust my hands down between my thighs and feel the warmth there. I clench my thigh muscles rhythmically, because there’s nothing else I can do for my nerves.
   
I’m not sure which scares me more: the thought of them saying Yes, or the possibility they might reject me.
   
Then Dane half-turns, and beckons me out.

I step from the car and the smell of the summer woodland hits me, along with the sound of birdsong. I feel ungainly as I walk forward, into what has become a semi-circle of men turning to watch. I should slink seductively, but I’m too tense. I lick my lips, wrecking the scarlet lipstick I’ve painted on so carefully.
   
They’re all remarkably similar-looking, in their military get-up. Big, tough looking men. They haven’t let themselves go, though most have been retired from active duty for ten years or so, like Dane. He runs a military fitness business now, honing soft managerial types and skinny wannabe-toughguy youths. He works hard and makes lots of money. And every six months he drives up to the Lake District to meet up with his old comrades in a bit of private woodland, and they shoot the crap out of each other with paintballs, and piss lager into bonfires, and smoke themselves cross-eyed.
   

So to some extent they all look like him: weathered, fortyish, high foreheads, lined about the eyes, deep notches forming like bookends around their mouths. I don’t mind that. I’ve always liked older men. Dane’s got fifteen years on me and a lifetime of experiences he won’t discuss, but that just makes him more interesting as far as I’m concerned. He’s like a puzzle box of nested secrets.   
   
I see all those open, smiling faces close up, becoming guarded.
   
‘Zadie,’ grunts Lewis, with a tiny nod of his head. I’m surprised he remembers me, but at least it’s an acknowledgement, albeit a reluctant one.
   
‘Meet the boys, Zadie.’ Dane drops an arm around my shoulders and rattles off a list of names, but I’m not able to take them in. Or meet the guys’ eyes. 
   
‘Hey,’ I mutter. 
   
The ginger one isn’t as polite. ‘Come on, Dane,’ he complains, grinding out his cigarette end. ‘No wives, no girlfriends – you know the rules.’
   
‘Fuck off, Dec,’ says Dane amiably. ‘It’s my turn to set the Game. Well, this is it. We’re going on a Pussy Hunt.’
   
There’s absolute silence for a moment. I feel six pairs of locked on me like sniper scopes.
   
‘Huh,’ says someone.
   
‘What sort . . ?’
   
‘A Pussy Hunt,’ he repeats. ‘A proper one. I reckon we give her twenty minutes head start. She’s pretty good across rough country. The first man to catch her – or the last man standing – gets her pussy.’
   
Someone snorts. Slow grins break across those hard faces.
   
‘Shit . . .’
   
‘You dirty bastard, Dane.’
   
‘Whose idea was that?’ asks Lewis, mildly incredulous.
   
He lifts an open hand to me. ‘Hers.’
   
That’s not exactly true.


Buy at Mischief Books : Amazon US (Kindle) : Amazon UK (Kindle)

"Hello, Nerds of London!"

I went to church last week :-)


Okay ... so I went to the Union Chapel in London (which is a working church, among other things). It was the most beautiful setting - Victorian Gothic, octagonal, and we all sat in pews - in which to see the Gods of Musical Geekdom play live. And I had the most fabulously nerdy night!


The support band was Paul and Storm - the close-harmony duo who gave the world the George RR Martin song "Write Like the Wind" - which is apparently part of an ever-growing epic cycle of songs addressed to people called George. They are also famous for what is possibly the silliest song about pirates in the history of civilisation.


And they have now added the concept of Floor Candy to my mental lexicon, for which I am ... not entirely grateful. But I love 'em. Aaaaaar.

Then after Paul and Storm came ...


... Jonathan Coulton! Yes, the "Code Monkey" guy! Squeeeeeeee! Uber-geek!

Coulton does nerdy, funny songs too - but he also specialises in romantic, melancholy songs about unrequited love, usually from the point of view of things that aren't very loveable ... Krakens, The Moon of Pluto, computer progammers, mad scientists ... The sort of songs that leave you feeling moved, but also really glad the protagonist isn't within several thousand miles of you or your home.



"Isn't it enough to know I ruined a pony making a gift for you?"

What a great evening, in a great setting!
And in case you think there isn't enough sex in this post, here's a Coulton song with extra ASL:



:-D

BTW, and talking about geeks and sexy ... there's only a DAY LEFT on the Geek Love Kickstarter!
If you haven't joined in yet, or you want to be sure of getting one of the limited-print-run HARDBACKS, please go pledge!

Eyecandy Monday

Time for some Bloke.

Actually, no there isn't. No time for anything but WORK! Get those edits done, Janine!

TftD: Good Things

And while we're on the subject of Good Things...

Good stone that

Have you seen the second trailer for The Hobbit, just released? It's not quite as good as the first one, to my mind, because there's no Dwarven singing going on, but I'm still all a-wibble with anticipation.

After all, if these two Dwarves turned up my doorstep, I'd bloody follow them anywhere.


Fili and Kili. Or the other way round. Doesn't matter - they come as a pair ;-)And I really don't think I'd say no to this one either...

Thorin.
Dwarves have suddenly become sexy! Well, some of them...

News (in briefs)

Good morning, and here is the news, brought to you live from our studio in some guy's boxers ...

I was guest host for an Erotica Readers and Writers Association webchat last Saturday, and we managed to break all their records for the sheer length of time we rabbited on. Subjects ranged from fantasy heroes to Aisling's parrots to a super sekret glimpse of my next project... and you can find the transcript here if you're interested.

I'm going to be the ERWA Guest Author of the month in NOVEMBER! Wheeeee! That means three of my favourite short stories will go up for you to read in their entirety.  You can find the current featured author (it's the mighty Craig Sorensen for September) here.



Two more rave reviews for
The first is from Vanessa Wu, who starts off with
"I was a little intimidated by this book to tell you the truth"

and concludes
"The warning on the cover is for once entirely justified"
but, fortunately for me, manages to be humorous and enthusiastic in between!
 Full review here


And the second is over at BDSM Book Reviews, which describes it as
"the most amazing book that has graced my e-book reader in a long time" 
and gives it 5/5 for both story and kink, but also warns BDSM fans(!!)
"if you like a sweet and pleasant BDSM read with nothing shocking in it, you might give this one a miss"
... which just cracked me up.
I may shock BDSM fans? Cool!


Thank you Vanessa and Janny!