Cait Miller's Blog: Sizzling Scribes Blog, page 15

Strap-ons and White Nights

(cross-posted from Diary of a Sex Diva blog)


A few weeks ago I was in Toronto at a "girl's night out" party with eight other, wild'n crazy women…in an ENORMOUS sports bar full of men. Umm…k…that fact may not be exactly relevant to this blog, but it was sure relevant to us! As it so happened my college-age son was at another party of his own in another section of Toronto. It was all spookily convenient, as I needed some company for my late-night drive home, and he wanted to attend the party, but still wanted to come home for part of the weekend. It all worked out beautifully.

So keeping that in mind that we were both in rather…uh…lubricated situations…at the midway point of the evening, I got the following text from my boy: "The guys here wanna know…if a guy likes taking it in the ass from a strap-on does that make him gay, str8, or what?"

My first reaction was of incredulous hilarity…and of course I immediately shared his text with the class. lol

Our first reaction was looking for some clarification. i.e. who is wearing the strap-on? Is it a man or a woman? Of course a few minutes later we realized how ludicrous that statement was. I mean…why would a guy wear a strap-on? Right? Err…anyway… Our final response was basically that it didn't matter. That being partial to anal play of any kind had no real bearing on the given person's sexuality. He might be gay, might be straight, or might be bi. The strap-on thing wasn't relevant.

But for me, that wasn't really the point of the incident. The point was that my son was perfectly comfortable asking me that question…and he was comfortable doing so in front of his peers. For me…that was a coup! Of course it was a rather objective question…he wasn't asking my advice on his own personal and intimate sex life…and I'm not sure I would ever expect that. However the fact that he was comfortable approaching me at all about such a thing, to me says that I have done my job well. That sex is not scary or taboo. It can be discussed openly and frankly, and with humour. And to me…that is a very healthy attitude.

For the record he told me later that one of the girls at his party declared her love for me.

I have that effect on people.

Just as an aside, the night of this party was also the night of Nuit Blanche aka White Nights in Toronto. It's an outdoor festival of art and light that the city hosts every year…and it's fascinating. One of these years I'll actually take the time to experience it properly…instead of rushing past all the exhibits as I run to make the subway in time!
 
 
Nikki

Reflecting on 2010

Another year is about to come to an end, so it's time to look back on what I did in 2010.
I had eight books published with Ellora's Cave--six new releases and two re-releases. I'm proud of that.
I read over 100 books. I'd promised myself in January that I would read more this year and I succeeded. Many of those were short novellas that are quick reads, but I enjoy those as much as long, detailed novels.
I lost a dear friend and my writing partner, Randi Monroe. I'd known Randi for over 20 years. Her death hit me very hard. I still think of her every day and miss her so much.
I went to RomantiCon and got to hang out with five of the Sizzling Scribes. We had so much fun! We ate together, drank together, and cracked jokes (some so funny I couldn't stop giggling). We gave a workshop on group promotion that was so successful, we hope we can give it again at the next RomantiCon.
I went to Ontario, Canada for the first time in my life. My good friend and fellow Scribe, Nikki Soarde, graciously invited me to her home. I've known Nikki for many years, but this was the first time I got to visit her beautiful country. She was a wonderful hostess and I had a blast.
I discovered after years of bronchitis that I have allergy-induced asthma. Now I'm taking allergy drops and am feeling much better.
I spent lots of time with my sister. That's always so special. She's the best sister ever!
So what's up for me in 2011? More books to write, more books to read, more scrapbooks to create, more travel (hopefully), more time with family and friends. How about you?
Happy New Year!Lynn

Some Tongue-In-Cheek Holiday Cheer

The holiday season is upon us – falalalala or CHA-CHING! Is it me or is everything just too freakin expensive to make any sense? This year I said I was cutting back (I say that every year and then find my self running like a motor with a screwed-up piston trying to at least make the tree look like it's got something under it. I know I end up with that 'deer in the headlights' look as I'm leaping around milling mall customers, knocking over the occasional old lady or two, and trying to find something more for say maybe the granddaughters. Something that isn't cheap and cheesy, yet not too pricey cuz you know damn well it's going to break after three uses and end up in the garbage anyway.)

And oh, let's talk about the forty acres of trees that end up in my daily newspaper or mailbox in the form of holiday coupons. Holiday Coupons??? Give me a break. There's 10% off, 15% off and even …. Drumroll ….1/2 OFF!!!!! Come now, don't miss the sale, it's the deal of the year. So like the damn idiot I am, I fell for it again this year. I was one of those numbskulls that couldn't sleep so I got up at 3:00 in the morning—mind you the wind is blowing, it's zero outside and it takes the entire 20 minute ride to the nearest town for the car to get close to warming up. I've got my lists and coupons tucked all nicely in my wallet cuz damn, I'm going to hit some bargains. So I shoulder my way through the crowds while wishing for that cold car because now I'm hotflashing and rethinking my turtleneck under my sweater. I grab this, I snatch that, I clutch at the gift of the year that's going to make me look good, all the while calculating that percentage off and telling myself that the deep freeze to the hotflash just may have been worth it. So I get up to the counter and reach for my glasses that I had hanging by a bow on my sweater and what to my wondering eyes appear? Absolutely nothing. Somewhere in the crazy holiday melee they fell off and ended up somewhere on the floor. So I retrace my route through the shopping crowd that despite the Christmas music and beautiful decorations, is now getting ornery and rude. Assholes. No glasses. Admitting defeat, I return to the counter that now has fifteen people in line in front of me. I wait patiently, caressing my coupons and trying to convince myself that yes, this is still worth what I'm going to save. FINALLY! It's my turn. With great aplomb I drop my purchases onto the counter and snap those old coupons right on top of them with a smile of pleasure… Until the store rep and says, "Well, sorry, Ma'am," (I hate Ma'am—I'm not my grandmother for crissakes) "These coupons won't work because this item and this item are all considered "Great Values" and this item doesn't fall within the category, oh, and this item? It's listed on the special event list so…"

So what did I do? I shoved the freakin coupons back into my purse wondering if I should just roll them up and smoke them on the way home. I pulled out my credit card with teeth gritting cuz damn, I wasn't going to be a rude and ornery customer.

On the way home as I'm choking on the taste of rolled coupon, I told myself that next year I'm simply buying gift cards.

(HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL OF YOU!)
Ruby

Christmas Recipe Contest

I've often struggled with cooking. I'm terrible at it. My husband and Kids are great cooks but I'm not. I'm one of those who has to follow a recipe to make anything.So I'm calling out to all those great cooks out there for help.Post your favorite Christmas Recipe and be entered to win your choice of a copy of Devilish Delights or Night Prey in e-format.If you'd rather have a hard copy, I have Arian's Angel or Eyes of Stonein print available.Every recipe you post and share gains you another entry and anotherchance to win. I'll start this off with one of my Mom's favorite's. SNOWBALL CAKE3 packages of plain gelatin6 tbsps cold water1 1/4 cups of boiling water1 cup sugar1 can of crushed pineapple1 can of strawberry pie filling3 containers of cool whip1 large angel food cake1 package of coconut
Soften gelatin with 6 tbsps of cold water then add 1 & 1/4 cups of boiling water and mix.Add 1 cup of sugar and stir until dissolved. Mix in pineapple with its liquid, add strawberry pie filling and 2 containers of cool whip and mix together well. Break up the angel food cake into small pieces then stir into the mixture. Line a large bowl with plastic wrap with plenty hanging over the sides. Pour the mixtureinto the bowl and cover with extra plastic wrap. Refrigerate overnight. Uncover the top of the bowl and flip onto a serving platter. Gently remove plastic wrapfrom the cake. Spread the last container of cool whip and coat with the coconut to give it the snowball appearance.
Enjoy. I look forward to learning some great new recipes. ThanksTara Nina

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Here in the States, we just celebrated Thanksgiving. It has now become my favorite holiday. In fact, I feel like it's the under-dog of holidays. Poor Thanksgiving kind of gets lost between Halloween and Christmas. (And don't even get me started on the Christmas decorations out in October! Oy!)

I love Thanksgiving because I go to my parents' house and stuff myself silly with my mom's awesome cooking. I don't have to write out 100 Thanksgiving cards, buy Thanksgiving presents, or go to Thanksgiving parties with people I only see once a year and really don't like. It's one day—granted with a lot of cooking and cleaning involved, but no one is waking me up at 4:00 am to see if the Thanksgiving turkey left anything for them by the chimney.

I also like that Thanksgiving includes a long weekend to sit home and revel in the turkey coma I've put myself in on Thursday. Ahh, bliss.

Soon enough, I'll have to write out Christmas cards, go to ridiculous office parties where I don't remember anyone's name, and have to shop until my credit card weeps or melts. But for this weekend, I'm just going to relax and enjoy the holiday. The Thanksgiving Holiday weekend, that is.

Here is wishing you all much to be thankful for this year and the years to come.

Ari

Genre Jumping

I'm a creature of habit but recently my writing has been taking me in an entirely new direction. I read primarily romance novels with the occasional segway into some longtime favorites. For the most part what I write has directly followed what I've been reading. But lately I feel myself drawn to genre's I have never been a huge fan of. Perhaps it's because many 'romance novels' now link into so many other markets. Yes romance is still the focus, but they venture into fantasy, crime, mystery, sex and perhaps in the case of some series, horror. Or perhaps I'm just getting back to my 'roots' so to speak. I never started out as a huge fan of romance, in fact my younger teenage self held it in much disdain. My first love was crime in the shape of Dick Francis novels and a little horror/suspense from Dean Koontz, nothing too gruesome but the creepier the better.

Lately I find the people in my head taking me into unexplored writing territory and instead of trying to wrestle them back into submission I've decided to shrug my shoulders and let them lead. "You want to go into this abandoned building with blood dripping from the walls? Ok, but when we meet a big scary monster you have to protect me." I've found that I either need to do it that way or we just won't be writing anything today.

So tell me, do you know of any authors who genre skip successfully? Have you followed them when they have? Have you done it yourself? Tell me your stories.
Cait

Oh, what a week!

I had knee surgery this past Wednesday – you gotta love modern medicine. I got to the hospital at 10:00 am, fifteen minutes before my call time (what can I say, I was anxious) and did the pre-op paperwork. It's same-day surgery and I've brought a book to read because I can see by the scheduling board that he's already done four procedures this morning and has two in the queue, neither one of them me yet.

But after only a few minutes, my name is called and I'm in my little cubicle changing my clothes (don't you just love hospital gowns?), getting my IV, answering the same questions for the second time today and the fourth time this week. No, I'm not wearing any jewelry (my husband will put my wedding ring back on me later in a small ceremony we always do when, for whatever reason, the band has to come off). Yes, I was born on January 19, 1957 (Fifty-three is a good age to have this kind of thing done, by the way. You're old enough to appreciate the few days enforced rest and young enough for it to be only a few days enforced rest). No, I don't smoke, drink to excess or take any illegal drugs. Yet. Wait till after the surgery and then give me something GOOOOD!

My husband joins me and now the wait really begins. I'm told my anesthesiologist is cute, but when I see him he's dressed in his blues and I can't see much of him. He's kind and, since he apparently is the same guy that gave me my drugs for my other knee last April, he's figuring to give me the same cocktail this time. Only he says he's going to up the local and reduce the overall knock-out drug so I can be on my way home quicker. Judging by the assembly line feel of the line of curtained cubicles, I'm not surprised.

He leaves and my husband and I are waiting again. The doctor himself has yet to make his appearance. Don't get me wrong. I've been in this cubicle now for only about 40 minutes since the start. And there were two people in line ahead of me for this particular surgeon. But it is while we're waiting for him that I get to hear the best line of the day.

The woman behind the curtain to my right is apparently going to have a tonsillectomy. This doesn't worry me. If they get us mixed up her doc's going to take one look down my throat and know he's got the wrong patient. My tonsils were taken out when I was six. Back then it was a three-day hospital stay. Today, it's same-day service. Wow.

Anyway, apparently the woman gave birth two weeks prior and is breastfeeding. Not currently, she left the baby home (thank goodness!). But her anesthesiologist questions her about the drugs he'd planned to use. She says…get ready for it…, "You can use whatever you want. I'm not going to feed him from my breast, I'm going to pump it first."

Honey, I want to tell her, milk is milk, whether you feed it to him from a bottle or from your boob. That baby's going to get whatever drugs you get.

My doc came in shortly thereafter, followed quickly by my drug contact. I kissed my husband and they wheeled me out. The anesthesiologist (that word is way too long to keep spelling out) paused the gurney long enough to shoot a syringe of something into my IV. The operating room was a short jaunt down the hall and by the time I got there, I saw they had two of everything inside, including two of my own doctor.

That was it for me. I woke up as they were putting me back in my cubicle. I ate a couple of saltines as the fuzziness at the edges of my vision cleared, had a glass of ginger ale and within another 40 minutes was in the wheelchair being shown the door. Total time at hospital? Two and a half hours. Told you – assembly-line surgery!

But the doc is good (he did my other knee last April). He scraped out 45 years worth of accumulated arthritis and discovered that, somewhere along the line, I'd ripped the meniscus a little so he smoothed that out, too. No big deal for him to deal with. It's the convalescence afterward that takes the time.

No bending the knee, no squatting, no kneeling of any sort. No pressure on the knee although walking is encouraged (shuffling is more like it at the moment. I walk like I'm 90 now so I can walk like I'm 30 in six weeks). No driving, no biking, no roller skating, no skiing and no skateboarding. Drat! I was going to show off my ollie this weekend! (not!)

So I'm somewhat housebound for a while. My plan is to use the time to write (did you know that the Quickie Love in the Afternoon was conceived, written AND edited in the weeks after my last knee surgery? Nothing like enforced housebound-itis to get those creative juices flowing!). This time around I hope to finish a full-length that I've been working on for the last year. I'd set it aside when I couldn't get the main characters to cooperate and wrote two short works instead ( Love in the Afternoon was one, my Naughty Nooner Remembered Love is the other. Have you picked that one up yet? Why not? It's free!).

But the characters for this current wip are talking again and I've written several thousand words in the past two weeks. I'm currently about half-done with the first draft and hope to have it totally done by the end of the month. Keep your fingers crossed!

So that's been my week! Turn those lemons into lemonade and, as always,

Play safe!
Diana

Label-able

(cross-posted from Diary of a Sex Diva)


Over the past few days I've had a lot of conversations about labels. There are so many kinds of labels. There's the washing instructions that tell me not to dryclean my clothes. (Silly people. As if I needed to be TOLD not to waste my money). Then there's the label on my pillow that is illegal to remove. (Can you hear the RRRRIIIIPPPing sound as I take those instructions to heart?). Then there's those cruel sizing labels on my jeans. Labels that try to convince me my waist has expanded, when I KNOW that to be a lie. There are warning and instruction labels. All of which provide us with essential, valuable information. But no...none of these are the labels that my conversations have revolved around.

It all started with an acquaintance at work very earnestly asking my opinion on some relationship labels. Seeing someone vs. dating someone. Friendship with benefits vs. buddies... or even "Fuck buddies." Despite the fact that I have been out of the dating circuit for...well...actually I never really WAS in the dating circuit, she was adamant that I'm one "in the know" and I should have some ideas on the subject. Never one to NOT have ideas, I had to concur with that evaluation...and I shared my thoughts with her...such as they were.

Actually, the definitions that we came up with aren't really all that important. But what I did find fascinating was the realization that what these labels are....the function they serve...is really all about another nasty word: EXPECTATIONS. Good or not...positive or not...each of these labels conjures up a set of expectations for each of the parties involved. Everything from how many times a week do I call or text this person? To how many times a week do we fuck? To whether or not you're allowed to "see" or "date" other people. The trick, of course, is to make sure that these sets of expectations match. That one person's definition of "dating" and all it entails is essentialy the same as their partner's definition. Because if those two definitions differ, hence the expectations differ, you're in for a shit load of trouble.

So, in this way, labels can be a very dangerous thing. I mean who among us wants to get tagged with labels like "nerd" or "blonde" or "slut." Labels tend to lead to assumptions about people and we like to attach all the characteristics that go along with a particular label to the person or, of course, relationship, in question. and assumptions are almost always a bad idea. In relationships, more so than any other facet of life, communication and clarity of expectations is paramount for any relationship to continue successfully.

Now I had a friend at one time who was very big on keeping our friendship casual. He wanted a friendship with, and I quote, "No expectations." I basically told him that this notion was BULLSHIT. There is no such thing as a friendship or any relationship for that matter, with NO expectations. Even the idea of having no expectations...is an expectation! Whether it's the expectation that you call that person all the time or that you never call them... Whether it's the expectation that you get together for coffee once a month, or the simple expectation that you pick up the phone when the other person calls.... Insignificant or not, each of these are expectations. And when expectations are not met it always, always leads to conflict, often heartache. And possibly the use of automatic weapons. Essentially, a relationship without expectations...is not a relationship.

So, having said that I would put it to you that labels, while generally unavoidable and somewhat dangerous, are also a necessary evil, and perhaps we should see them as a good starting point. Personally, I'm in favour of taking on my labels and, rather than denying the images that they illicit...working towards changing them.

Think of the word "gay" for example. Thirty years ago that word brought up very different images and reactions than it does today. At least for a significant portion of the population. It took a lot of work on the part of the gay community to change that, and I'm really not sure that simply avoiding the use of the term i.e. the label, would have gotten them there any sooner. What abour words like Muslim, atheist, bisexual, submissive, masochistic. How about fuck vs. sex vs. making love? Sodomy vs. anal sex? The list of labels, and the list of characteristics and perceptions that we attach to these labels is endless.

I guess my ultimate point is to use labels cautiously, always be clear on what that label means, be open to new ideas and new definitions, and always, always be clear on the expectations that go along with them.
Relevant or not, I just have to end with this line that I heard in a movie this week:

Why do women fake orgasms?

Because men fake foreplay.
Maybe they should've defined foreplay a little more clearly!!

Vacation!

Whenever I see the word "vacation", I think of the Connie Francis song. If you don't know which song I'm talking about, you're much too young. :-)

I had a fantastic time this month. First there was RomantiCon, Ellora's Cave's second annual conference in Richfield, Ohio. I got to visit with authors, meet readers (EC has the best readers), attend great workshops, and visit with good friends, including five of the Scribes. Oh, and ogle the Cavemen. Eight tall, hunky guys who are just as nice and polite as they are gorgeous.

After the conference, the second part of my vacation began. I've known Nikki Soarde, a sister Scribe, for almost ten years. We met online while we wrote for the same e-publisher before we discovered Ellora's Cave. We clicked and have been friends ever since. I live in Texas and she lives in Ontario, so visiting has been difficult. Not this year! I flew into Toronto, rode to the conference with Nikki and her husband, then rode back to her house and spent eight days with her. I had such a good time! I saw so much pretty scenery, including Niagara Falls and lots of autumn color.

Nikki and I went to a play in Stratford, a wonderful production of Dangerous Liaisons. I stood on the beach of Georgian Bay and Lake Huron. This picture is of Lake Huron shortly before sunset. I tried poutine and a Beavertail and the famous Tim Hortons coffee.

I got to meet her three teenagers, who were all such polite young men. They made me feel very welcome. The Canadian Thanksgiving was on October 11th, so I got to enjoy Nikki's turkey and stuffing. And I was part of the family's weekly pizza and movie night.

It was a wonderful trip that I'll always remember. Nikki said she has other places she wants to show me. I hope I can go back soon!

Lynn

Contests and Judges

Every once in a while someone (or several someones) in my writing circle gets the results back from a contest and it's almost never what the entrant wants to hear. We all provide sympathy, electronic hugs, and make sure the author knows that the contests are subjective. It doesn't hurt to inform the author knows that the judges are brainless twits with no literary taste (that's what friends are for, after all).

But sympathy and support should only go so far. Here's the truth…if you enter a contest, you need to accept the outcome. You asked the question. You asked someone to look at your baby and tell you if it's ugly and if they say "yes" you can't just ignore it and turn to someone else hoping for a different answer.

Not all comments are valid. Not all judges are good or smart or kind but I think there is merit in at least listening. Even if a comment isn't valid, the author needs to look at their story through that judge's eyes. Something about it bothered them. Something triggered a response. If there is confusion to something you thought was obvious, maybe it isn't obvious.

Now, some judges just shouldn't judge or they're judging the wrong things. People who hate vampires shouldn't judge vampire stories but it happens.

You need to think about what you want out of a contest. If it's just someone to tell you your stuff is wonderful, send it to your mom, your best friend, your neighbor.

I think you enter contests for two reasons…

1) You're getting close to being published and this is a way to get your manuscript in front of an editor who buys the stuff you write

2) You want someone who hasn't been involved in the process (someone not from your critique group or you haven't discussed the story with) to read your story and give you comments from the standpoint of a reader off the street.

Now I know, that the second one doesn't always happen. We're writers. We want to fix things and tell other authors how to make it better. But in my mind, if a judge asks a question or makes a comment, dismissing it as "they don't know what they're talking about" is dismissing a reader's confusion.

Review the judge's comments, get irritated and then put them away. Come back in a week and read them again. When you read them the second time, come to it thinking "They might have point. I should look to see if I agree." You might not. That's good. It's your story.

Don't dismiss comments because it isn't what you wanted to hear. That won't improve your story.