S.M. Johnson's Blog, page 24

SM Johnson ~Thursday Morning Coffee

Good morning, darlings, and happy Thursday!

We're a little late on the coffee today, mostly because I had a long coffee and hedonism morning with my husband.

Oh, what shall we talk about today? How about all-time favorite series books?

This week has been such a treat - I mentioned on Monday that I had the opportunity to be an early reader for my favorite author, JC Andrijeski, and read book 5 of her Allie's War series. So I've pretty much been doing that. I finished the book last night, with one of those sighs of contentment where a book has felt so real and perfect that reaching the end is like starting to grieve.
Pern series
I have been a voracious reader all of my life. I have loved Anne McCaffery's Dragons of Pern series, and Madeline L'Engle's Austin and Murry families, and The Chronicles of Narnia will most surely always live in my heart.

Anne Rice's vampire's turned me on my head, and I can't resist an Anita Blake installment. I couldn't stop reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy to save my life (once I slogged through the first 200 pages of book 1).

I enjoyed The Hunger Games as well as Fifty Shades of Grey.

Wolves of Mercy FallsThe adventures of Lee Child's character, Jack Reacher, are always satisfying. Reading a Spenser book by Robert B. Parker is as melt-in-my-mouth enjoyable as cotton candy. Maggie Steifvater's Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy blew me away with its prose that was often as beautiful as poetry.

The first truth is, I love books. I have always loved books. And I especially series with well-written characters who change and grow and evolve. Where page one feels like greeting old friends.

The second truth is that the Allie's War series has made my list of lifetime favorites.

It still continues to baffle me that the Allie's War books haven't rocked the readership of the world. I feel very keenly, however, that this series will eventually explode into public view.

I urge my readers to be some of the first in the know - by visiting JC's page at Amazon and purchasing Rook: Allie's War Book One. Just start there. Is it worth five bucks for a reading experience that will lodge in your heart, encapsulate your dreams, and make you wonder how you ever lived happily without knowing these people? I think it is.

Allie's War collectionOr maybe you're willing to double your risk and spend ten bucks for a collection of books One through Four (That's what I'd do. It's a no-brainer, considering I'm one of JC's biggest fans.) In fact, there are parts of these stories that I want to re-visit over and over, so I'm eventually going to buy the paperbacks. I love my e-reader, but true book-love, for me as a reader, will always show in the form of needing to hold that paperback in my hands.

I can't compare Allie's War to 50 Shades of Grey - they are totally different animals - BDSM romance versus sci-fi/fantasy/apocalyptic adventure People seem to love Christian Grey's fifty shades of fucked up (myself included), but when I revisited Revik and Allie (Allie's War characters), I realized that Grey was just a stand-in for me while I waited for Revik to come into my life again.

I don't think I've met a more complex and damaged character, one who struggles more with how the pain of his past has been instrumental to creating the person he is today. He is a military leader, a lover, a fighter, a strategist, and a person who is so accustomed to living in gray areas that he sometimes really can't tell the difference between wrong and right.

JC's world-building is incredibly comprehensive. It starts slowly in book one, as we learn alongside Allie about the intricacies of seer culture, and how the world is evolving, including who Revik is, and who Allie is expected to become. Mythical beings, prophesied by seer culture, manifested in these physical bodies, destined to lead humans to the next level of evolution.

By book five, this world is fully familiar to us, and we can immerse ourselves in OMG, what's happening next?

JC warned me that book five is very long.

Yeah, whatever. It felt like a minute, or certainly not longer than it feels to watching a really absorbing movie. Couldn't even hazard a guess about how many pages or words it was, but it was perfect. And now beings my vigil for book six.

I do wish you all would catch up to me and join me in my vigil.

If you feel like leaving a comment, I would love to know about the books that dug into your heart and maybe even changed you a little from the inside out. Is there a character you read who feels like an old and beloved friend? An author who's next book you wait for and wait for, then devour so quickly that you wished you'd slowed down to savor the book more slowly?

Do tell, darlings.

SM Johnson ~Bloody Monday~ just stuff

Hello, darlings! This week's Bloody Monday is like Thursday Morning Coffee. Except on Monday.

Because really, I just want to ramble.

I'm still waiting for people to tell me what they thought of Fifty Shades of Grey, though, so if you're dying to talk dark fiction, please, feel free!

It's been a way-too-freaking-exciting weekend around here. Positive and negative. Good and bad. Productive, and yet soooooo not productive - all at the same time.

It had been my plan, upon realizing that Above the Dungeon was, yes, in fact, actually out of print - to get it uploaded to Amazon and Smashwords in double-quick time.

And then Life said, and I quote, "Bwahahahahahahahaha-bwahahahaha-haha!" As it so often does.

Oh yes. I was doing a kind of final edit on Above the Dungeon - making some changes to things that reviewers consistently mentioned. Nothing major - I let Dare get aroused more easily during the scenes he was ambivalent about, and added a tiny bit to the ending so it wasn't quite so abrupt. So if you read the original Above the Dungeon, wherein the book ends during a flogging scene, click HERE to read a short addition.

So it was my plan to finish checking over the draft Thursday night and upload the files Friday morning. II knew my contract with Torquere Press was coming to an end, and since I didn't plan to renew the contract, I'd already created the new cover, which tends to be the most time consuming part of self-publishing, for me, at least.

But overall, once an MS Word draft is ready, creating ebooks for Amazon and Smashwords is relatively easy.

Trouble was my draft had block paragraphing. And not block paragraphing of the sort that can be fixed by manipulating paragraph formatting. Oh, no, nothing that quick. I had HARD PARAGRAPH RETURNS throughout the document.

When I published Out of the Dungeon, I used indented paragraph styling. I certainly didn't want Above the Dungeon to be different. Dang it.

I planned to take a couple of hours to remove the hard paragraph returns.

How to wash stuffed animalsThis, of course, did not take into account the fact that Sprite would be vomiting every 1/2 an hour from 11:30 pm Thursday night to 8:30 am Friday morning. Or that I would stay up all night deleting hard paragraph returns and washing blankets, and sheets, and more blankets, and a comforter, and several towels, and a few stuffed animals. (I followed the instructions, except for the "no dryer" part - I dried the babies for a couple of hours on the fluff setting. "Fluff" on my dryer means "without heat."

Did I mention Sprite has a loft bed and a zoo's worth of "stuffties" that she sleeps with?

AmazonFriday I was a zombie. I finally got to go to sleep at about 4:30 pm, only to have my phone blow up with all the people in my life who all me. "I'll get you, my pretty, and your glowing blue screen, too!"

SmashwordsBut - after a good night's sleep, I did get the files uploaded on Saturday, and I am  pleased to announce that Above the Dungeon is now available at Smashwords and Amazon at an all-time low price of $2.99.

Believe me, if you paid $9.99 for a 3rd book in an erotic trilogy recently popular with the mainstream - (and if you're a straight woman or a gay man, or a person who likes reading gay erotica) - then Above the Dungeon for $2.99 is a total steal.

So... Saturday was good. Watched lots of Disney, and then the movie Twister. I created ebooks. Sprite was feeling better and begged to spend the night at a friend's house, which meant Hubby and I got to have a date night.

5:11 am on Sunday morning - Sprite calls. She threw up and needs to be picked up.

Sigh.

Hulu.comWe watched AFV (America's Funniest Videos) on Netflix, and that cheered me up a lot. Laughter really is great medicine. And when the video store opened, I zipped over there and rented Titanic.

WikipediaSprite's been begging to see the movie since they talked about the Titanic in school around the 100th anniversary of the doomed voyage. I thought I could happily live the rest of my life without seeing it ever again (TV is not really my thing) - but I actually enjoyed it. And even cried towards the end.

Lovely, hmm?

Well, this is where things start to get dark for Bloody Monday. Only this is super extra WAY dark because it isn't fiction.

I looked up some footage of the Titanic on the bottom of the ocean. Which reminded me of the Costa Concordia, off the coast of Italy. Which lead me to video footage of the sinking of the Oceanos, and the fascinating story about how the Captain and crew abandoned ship, and the entertainment staff ended up coordinating the rescue of 100% of the passengers. Talk about whoa!

And THIS led me to watching videos of the 2004 Tsunami. And that led me to a series of 7 videos in which survivors of this horrific event (mostly tourists) share video footage and talk about living through such trauma. It starts here with part 1 (P1) and each subsequent part through 7 is suggested when the previous video ends.

Heavy, heavy stuff. If you need a reminder of your mortality, and of how lucky you are to be living and breathing each miraculous day - watch all 7 parts. But be prepared - sometimes there is blood, often you will see people being swept away to their deaths, and in the last couple of segments are a lot of dead bodies. The enormity of the terror and loss these folks faced - well, I cannot even imagine.

I remember that I'd bought something on Ebay a couple weeks prior to Dec 26, 2004 and it was coming to me from an area near the Indian Ocean. And  after hearing about the Tsunami, and something like 283,000 people dying - I knew I would never receive the item, nor would I ever give it another thought.

Waiting for a package is as close as I have been to a natural disaster, and as close as I ever want to be.

Needless to say, I did a little crying today, but it's okay. It's good to spend some time affirming the worth of our lives.

And - my day was, ultimately, capped off with brilliance.

Of course, there's always a silver lining, right? JC Andrijeski, one of my favorite writers in the whole wide world, sent me Knight: Allie's War book five (to beta read). So yay for sneak peek from favorite authors. There shall be redemption. And I was just trying to figure out what to read now that I've finished Fifty Shades, so it was perfect timing.

Haven't read any of Allie's War? Well, check out book one, Rook. I, personally, guarantee you'll find yourself hooked. If you don't get hooked, leave me a comment on this post, and I'll give you one of my books for free, your choice.

Photo by TkwonSo, now... tell me something, darlings...

When is the moment you felt the most grateful to be alive?

Myself, I can think of a car accident or two - one in particular when I was driving across the Blatnik Bridge in a snowstorm when I hit a patch of ice and my car spun 180 degrees. When I came to a stop I was facing a slew of other cars driving on snow and ice - and the people driving them were expecting to see taillights, not headlights.

Talk about terrifying.

SM Johnson ~A Year of Sundays ~ ch 11 pt 2

Chapter 11 - July 10Part 2
"She's not good," I told Silas. "She's beyond the seventy-two hour hold, staying on voluntary status, and admitting that she's really sick this time."
"I don't know how she can stay there," Josie said, and shuddered. "I stopped in to see her for a few minutes on Friday, and the whole place is vibrating with sick people. Weird, crazy people. A lot crazier than Mellie."
I agreed. "I know. But she said she has to stay or the doctor will commit her again. I really didn't think she was that sick."
"Oh, come on, you guys," Liz said, giving us each a hard look in turn. "We all know her drinking has gotten out of control. Don't any one of you pretend you didn't notice."
I'd noticed, sure. The fiasco with Travis the party guy, the night I gave Mel and Caleb a ride home because I didn't trust that Mel's little nap left her sober enough to drive… yeah, I sure noticed.
"Is it going to be like it was before?" Josie asked. "With her in and out of the hospital over and over again for months?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. Dr. B is determined to help her, fast. He's got a plan, and Mel said she's on-board with it.  In a day or two she'll be off all meds, and starting over. That's why she feels like shit, because she's withdrawing from her meds."
I shied away from telling them the other, awful thing in Dr. B's plan.We were mostly done eating. Jo-Jo got up and went into the kitchen to wash her hands, and then came back and picked up her present. She drummed her fingers against the silver foil wrap. Whatever was inside was protected by a solid box.
When Jeremy was the only one still eating, Silas said, "Go ahead and open it, Jose."
She grinned and did her usual gift-opening routine; starting at one corner and peeling back the paper in long, thin strips, prolonging her anticipation. Until she caught a glimpse of the lettering on the box and let out a squeal.
"Is it really? It's not, is it?" she asked Silas, her eyes getting wide.He laughed out loud. "Keep going and find out."
She tore the rest of the paper off in a rush, shaking her head. She stared at the box for a second, then looked around the table and held up crossed fingers.
It was an iPad box.
Of course, throughout our lives we've all played the fooled you game by hiding gag gifts in fancy packaging. Or hiding really awesome gifts in toaster boxes.
Josie waved her crossed fingers around for a few seconds, then tried to lift open the box. It didn't lift. She fought with it for a second, then bent her head to examine the sides. "Round plastic tape. Looks like the genuine article, guys."
She slid her fingernail under the clear adhesive disc and peeled it off.She squealed again, louder this time. "Oh, Silas! Really? You really bought me an iPad? Why?"
"I told you. It's a get-well gift."
She lifted it out of the box, peeled off the temporary screen-protector, and turned it on. And I swear she was connected to the internet in five minutes flat.
"What should I Google?" she asked.
"Bi-polar disorder," I suggested, and Josie made a face at me for being boring, but obliged.
Melanie let me visit yesterday. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not any of what I got.
The psych unit isn't a warm, fuzzy, comfortable place. Part of me can't believe Melanie can even stand to stay there – not on purpose.
It's a small space, one long hallway and one short, like a capital L. There's a TV room, and a dining area with the tables and chairs bolted to the floor. Mel wore green hospital scrubs, and let me tell you, they weren't much of a fashion statement. She looked like she hadn't showered for days.
The first thing she said was, "I haven't showered for days."
I laughed – funny thing about sisters – sometimes we shared the same brain. "Why not?"
"My roommate is super psychotic. She screams at the wall, she screams at the mirror, and she flushes the toilet constantly. The thought of her walking in and flushing over and over while I'm in the shower freaks me out."
"Want me to guard the door?" I asked.
So that's how the visit started. Me, standing with my back to the bathroom door, holding it closed, while Mel took a shower. Bodyguard Jessamine. Hey, it's what sisters do, right?
She came out of the shower looking like a new woman.
"How did it get this bad?" I asked, but what I wanted to ask was how we didn't notice it was this bad, and why didn't she tell us?
I pushed a low vinyl-covered chair with wooden sides over to Mel's side of the bed. It was heavy. 
She crawled into her bed and curled up on her side, facing me.
"Mom and I… well. We had a special relationship. Not easy, but really unique. And important. I feel more abandoned by her now than ever. I don't know how to survive without her."
"You survive with us," I said, because that was completely obvious.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then opened them. "I hated her, Jessie. I mean, there's a part of me that's never forgiven her for what happened to me. And lately it's all I can do to stop myself from screaming out loud fifty times a day."
Oh, God. More shock. I didn't know if I could deal with this. "What? But that's not what you told mom. At the end, I mean. You said you hardly ever think about it."
She snorted. "You spied on us? You heard my private talk with mom? That's so not cool, Jess."
I felt hot all over. I lifted my hands to my face, first clamping them just over my mouth, but she was staring at me, so I moved my fingers over my eyes, too. If I can't see her, she can't see me.
Ridiculous.
She was right. It was totally not cool. If I could take it back, I would. Not the eavesdropping part, but the slip of my tongue.
"Shit." I said, finally, because I could feel her eyes on me, and the look I imagined in them contained boat-loads of pain, and that made me feel ashamed. A little. "You're right. I'm very, very sorry. But that's not the point, is it? You were getting really sick, and you hid it from us."
"I wasn't hiding it, Jess. Not on purpose. It was more like I thought if I pretended to be okay, maybe I would be. Maybe it would blow over, you know?"
"No, I don't know. Does it ever blow over?"
She sighed, and her fingers crept upward to twist into her hair. "No. It's like a bad tooth. You can pretend for a few days that you just need to floss more, but the pretending doesn't change the fact that you need a root canal. You know I hate having to change my meds. It's a horrible process, and it goes on for weeks, and sometimes it takes more than one change, so it goes on for more weeks."
"I know," I said. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for listening, and I'm sorry for ignoring the signs that things were getting bad. It's awful for all of us, but you and mom… well, you're right, you had something special. And I disrespected that."
"Thank you," Mel said. "I forgive you."
I peeked at her. "Really?"
"Of course. You're my sister. I have to."
I dared a tiny laugh. "I love you. I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just so curious."
"Nosy, you mean."
"Yeah, okay. Nosy. So. Dr. B is changing your meds? Did he suggest anything new?"
"He suggested ECT."

Above the Dungeon Ending addition

***SPOILER ALERT***



Here is the improved ending to Above the Dungeon:










Chapter 27
Stop the presses, here's the new guy.Mutual flogging. Eye contact. Roman really wanted me to like this guy, to bond with him.And wasn't that part of my submission, anyway? Bend to the Master's will and all that. Remember Tristan, right? Once I gave up jealous anger and let myself get to know him, everything was easier.And if Roman wanted Dare, Roman would have Dare. Can't get much simpler than that.I don't know. I kind of viewed Dare as repressed and playing at all of this, but it was possible that Roman saw something else in him. Roman could read people like nobody's business, and certainly better than I ever could.I laced my fingers through Dare's and looked into his eyes. He was nervous or embarrassed or something. But he was still obedient. Maybe that was some of the appeal. I know that pushing limits and forcing me to face fears is one of the things that totally gets Roman off, so I guess I could see why Roman might enjoy someone who's afraid of practically everything we do. It made a twisted kind of sense.I got the first rain of flogger blows, and Dare the second. And when it was my turn again, Roman increased the speed and the intensity, and I found myself clinging to Dare, who obediently held me up.And then Suede appeared, and it was a relief, because it was hard to let myself slip away when any minute Roman might switch to flogging Dare. I didn't dare look around for Vanessa, but she would be close, watching Suede in action.So there we were, Dare and I. Two helpless bottoms attached to one another, suffering the same fate, for the pleasure of the Master.Suede had a very nice flogging technique, and it was easy for me to submit to it, to let my jealous thoughts fall to the wayside and just be in the moment. When Roman started hitting Dare harder, Dare clung to me, and moaned, and looked into my eyes, and his own eyes were soft with submission and acceptance, and we were not only in this together, but we were beautiful.I could feel my hips jutting out toward him, wanting to rub my cock against him. We were twins in the moment, and there was something powerful about sharing this.And as my body strained under blows both physical and emotional, it seemed like Roman read my mind, because he removed Dare's leather jock and urged him close to me, so close that we could rub against each other.Dare started to freak out, but Roman talked to him, petted and praised him, and it seemed to be just what Dare needed to comply.There was a challenge here for Roman that heightened his excitement, and how could I not benefit from that? My place was secure. As Roman told Dare to let go, I had to let go as well.The Mistress and the Master were striking us in perfect rhythm. I stared into Dare's eyes as our hips ground together, and I figured it out; the more I love, the more love I have to give. Loving more than one person makes my heart spill over with joy, and I wanted Roman to know that feeling. It was okay to give Dare a chance, to risk letting Roman love him, because maybe it would be beautiful. Hell, maybe it would be phenomenal.
* *There came a moment when Dare's eyes met Jeff's, and they were totally in this together. And for that one second, Dare thought maybe he could do this. Then he became aware of hands exploring his waist, and the leather that protected his cock and scrotum was pulled away and tossed aside.Roman urged Dare closer to Jeff, and Jeff smiled into Dare's eyes, but Dare was mortified about being exposed. He struggled against Roman's hands. Too much. There were too many watchers, too many eyes, and Roman was going to make him press and rut against Jeff in front of all of them. Dare started to panic.Roman leaned over the table and spoke into Dare's ear. "Take a breath. You are beautiful. The two of you are breathtaking, and this is my will. If you let yourself go and let me do what I do, you won't be sorry. I promise."Dare took a deep breath, and Roman's eyes pulled Dare in like the moment they met. Dare knew instantly that he would not defy Roman, not now, not here. Dare sighed, and nodded, and let himself be guided forward until his hips were pressed against Jeff. Roman ruffled Dare's hair and said, "There's a good boy."The praise itself made everything better. Dare had a moment of clear thought as he realized Roman knew exactly how to play him. But then the flogging started again, and thoughts of self-preservation would have to come later.
* *A little moan came out of Dare's throat that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my dick. I pressed against him and watched him let go, and he was beautiful. I knew, right then, exactly why Roman wanted Dare.Fear turns to awe, awe to orgasm, and all masks, all pretense slips away. Dare's face showed everything that I felt in my heart, and it was Roman who did this. Roman, with his autocratic control, who loves us into submission.
* *[End]

SM Johnson ~Thursday Morning Coffee~

Thursday Morning Coffee will be delayed to Thursday Evening Vodka. Just as soon as I finish reading Fifty Shades Freed. Because until then, I am utterly useless. Cheers, darlings.

SM Johnson ~Bloody Monday~ Fifty Shades of Grey

[image error] E L James siteHappy Monday, darlings! (I can say that, because this week Monday is my "Friday" and I have two glorious days off after working the weekend. Yay! Life is good.

Before I get into talking about Fifty Shades of Grey, I just want to put in a little reminder that Bloody Monday has broadened its scope beyond vampires to include other dark fiction. I also wanted a venue to discuss the latest "pop culture" fiction craze. I want to experience the books that "everyone" is talking about - first, to see what all the fuss is about, and second because I do want to keep up with the mainstream, despite the fact that I don't write for the mainstream. Still - I wouldn't hate it if one of my books caught the attention of the masses and did a wildfire dash into bestseller realm.

Just remember, even if it happens, I'll still hate the movie. Guaranteed.

And for the third and probably most important reason - my quest to learn about great stories and great writing. Not that the mainstream masses always care about great writing, but they do a pretty good job of holding great characters up into the light.

Okay, onward to Fifty Shades of Grey. I'm really excited to re-read some reviews now that I've read the book.

This next bit will be my general thoughts, rather than a review, so please don't take it as a review. I know,  I know, but whatever.  I will probably get into some stuff that will be considered *spoilers* - so just an FYI, I will put in a cut and a "read more" link at that point.

I'm going to start by saying - I really enjoyed this book. Which surprised me, because I expected to be rolling my eyes for the duration, and scathingly suggesting that people who thought this was sooo titillating, sooo graphic, soooo erotic ought to read my Dungeon books. Because although I love me some good erotica, mediocre erotica annoys the hell out of me. Which is why I write my own.

I have to write the stuff I want to read.

But E L James is a fine writer, and doesn't slip into the purple prose that so aggravates me. There aren't any "turgid members" or "heaving bosoms" or nipples that constantly "pebble." James has a fresh voice, and generally calls body parts what they are - and doesn't yank me out of the narrative laughing, or groaning in consternation - which is a very good thing. The emotional aspects of BDSM are  quite well done. A couple of the "scenes" - in the BDSM sense - are scorching. Some of the others could be, but they tended to be over too quickly for me to really start to burn.

What I found absolutely fascinating were Christian Grey's fifty shades of fucked-up. I mean... oh my. And oh my. There, I said it. 

The Anastasia character could be anyone -a Mary Sue, the girl that lives down the street, the girl that lives down the street from Mary Sue. Hell, she could be Bella Swan, for all I care, and I don't know if I've met a literary heroine that I care less about than Bella Swan.

The best part of Ana's characterization is her hysterical inner Goddess. A little corny at first, but I got used to her, and just love the vivid and fresh descriptions of what Ana's inner goddess (subconscious, unconscious, and sometimes even her conscience) is up to - i.e. rolling her eyes, hiding behind the couch, tapping her foot - the inner Goddess is a hoot.

But Christian is an outstanding character. In the words of Winston Churchill, a riddle wrapped in mystery inside an enigma.


He is so many layers of fucked up, to be sure. And we get hints, and tantalizing pieces, and little bits of information that lets us guess as to what level of fucked up he is, but then we don't find out. I mean, OMFG, the book ends and we don't find out.

Absolutely stellar.

Okay, so here are the things that aggravated me - because of course, since I didn't write the book myself, there are things that aggravated me (grin).

Anastasia is about to graduate from college and she's a virgin. Not only is she a virgin, but she's really never been on a date or been kissed, or been heavily petted, nor has she ever masturbated.

I found it very, very difficult to suspend my belief on this point.

Especially when she can have sex multiple times over short period of time and never getting sore enough that soreness inhibits her from having an orgasm. ***NOTE*** And yet - this is erotica and fantasy, so being able to fuck like rabbits over and over again without insy/outsy pain is pretty standard to the genre ***END NOTE***

Personally, I think she may have been a stronger character if she'd had a couple of lame sexual experiences with unskilled boys, and it just sort of put her off the whole sex thing. That would make perfect sense to me.

AND YET - part of Ana's appeal to the amazing and astounding Christian is that he is her first and only lover, and that, my darlings, contributes and heartily feeds his need for ownership. I don't think there would be a chance in hell for  Christian to fall for Ana if she had not been a virgin.

And because I think Christian IS the main character of this story (despite the fact that the story is told from Ana's point of view) - I will accept that Ana's virginity is 100% true to CHRISTIAN's characterization.

Like how I embraced the author's choices even when I initially thought they were hokey? That's the mark of a great story-teller.

Okay, another thing I didn't like - the fully and completely inexperienced Ana gives a mind-shattering blow job. The very first time. She deep throats and doesn't gag. She swallows. I mean, between this and the virginity thing, I'm beginning to think that E L James is a man. This is so typical of a man's fantasy.

A couple more nit-picks - and I'll move on.

Ana is a senior in college in America who is about to graduate with what I perceive to be a higher than average GPA. And she's pulled this off without owning a computer. She borrows her room-mate's laptop, or uses the computer lab at school. And she doesn't even have an email address.

This is ridiculously difficult to believe. No one in this day and age can possibly wind up a college senior and not have an email address. I think I had 2 email addresses when I was in college in 1995. I have at LEAST four email addresses right now. That's one complaint. The other is that laptops aren't that expensive, and the girl works. It is just not feasible that she wouldn't have one. If a student doesn't get a laptop for high school graduation, it's very likely the very first thing they buy with their student loans.

And kind of alongside the above, my last negative picky observation: Ana is annoying and totally sets my teeth on edge (like Bella Swan) when Christian buys her things. Christian is obscenely wealthy. He doesn't see the point of Ana doing without certain things (laptop, blackberry - okay, maybe a new car is a bit of an excessive gift in a new relationship, but still). This is kind of a Cinderella story - does Cinderella refuse the prince because marrying him will make her a princess, and she's not worthy?)

So what does Ana think, she'll be with Christian, but she'll live in a shack in poverty on the back 40 while he resides in the lavish mansion? Aaaarrrggghhhh. Wealth is his way of life. Embrace it. Or if you can't embrace it, get over it and quit whining. Money might not buy happiness, but it can make life a lot more pleasurable. And techno-gadgets are fun. Just go with it, already.

Basically Ana whines, "Oh, don't buy me nice things, because it makes me feel like a whore."

What-the-fuck-ever. You ARE having sex with him, sometimes crazy-bondage sex, so accept the gifts. He doesn't think you're a whore, he just has money and is accustomed to spending it. He's being NICE for God's sake. Sheesh.

Lastly - why does Ana have to be mousey and homely? Perfectly normal girls can be pretty, too.

This is the primo sign of a Mary Sue character - "oh, I'm not all that pretty or stylish and I don't wear make-up, and I'm just so plain, especially compared to my roommate/sister/cousin/best friend."

The truth is that people are attracted to others who have similar status. And when I say "status" I'm not talking about wealth. I'm talking about self-esteem, self-worth, opinion of self, perception of self. I'm not trying to be a c*nt here, but very often plain people hook up with other plain people, beautiful people with beautiful people, ugly people with similarly ugly people, mentally ill people with mentally ill people. Partly it's because that's who they meet in the places they go. Seriously. When you go to Walmart, or a restaurant, or a club - check out the couples. Sometimes it's funny.

But again, when you consider Christian - the rules may change of course, but he does have some social esteem to uphold, so I can't imagine he'd claim as a girlfriend a girl who is as out-right unattractive as Ana seems to perceive herself.

And let me tell you flat out - women who choose to be sexually submissive often have incredibly positive self-esteem and very strong senses of self. It's not about being a doormat, and it's not about feeling they "deserve to be punished" or are unworthy in a deeper sense.

Trust me. I know stuff.

The opposite is more often true - that they trust and often love their Dominant, and by giving their submission they are honoring the Dominant with an incredible gift.

And also being submissive gives them spectacular orgasms. Let's not forget that part.

I said it earlier, and I'll say it again - I really liked this book.

The funny thing is that I liked it for reasons that I never expected. And so now I will discuss the reasons that I love this book.

And so now here are the things I loved about this book:

****SPOILER ALERT****

Here's the cut. Click "read more" to keep going....

(if you don't want to read the spoilers, stop reading here and leave me a comment telling me if you're planning to read Fifty Shades of Grey, and what you expect from the book based on media coverage, discussions, blogs, or even just the back-cover description).


This is the way of most erotic BDSM stories.

I never in a million years expected Ana to lead Christian Gray out of the dark and into the terrifying realm of a "vanilla" egalitarian relationship.

Pick up a flogger and knock me right over.

Holy-Moly, Rocky.

Christian is so fucked up that the idea of a "normal" relationship is just not something he's ever put on his radar. He doesn't seem to long for it, he doesn't seem to wish he were different than he is.

But he wants Ana. And he can't have Ana purely on his own terms. Because she's not submissive. She doesn't really mind the kinky, but she doesn't understand how anyone could even want to be submissive, much less find happiness in being hurt.

And she doesn't understand at all how Christian can love her and want to hurt her at the same time. To her, that's a disconnect. And it's such a total disconnect that she "gets it" - it doesn't matter if she loves Christian - if he wants to hurt her, then in her world it means that he is unable to truly have feelings of love for her. No matter how he makes her feel, no matter if he professes his undying love (which he doesn't).

Now - I would argue this, and I do hope that in Fifty Shades Darker E L James does argue it.

(And I really hope hope hope that Ana gets to tie Christian up and touch him all over. Oooooh, please!)

And I want, no I NEED to find out more about Christian's past - why he hates to be touched, and how badly he must have been abused to never get over his hatred of being touched. And I'm also really curious about the 6 years he spent as Elena's submissive - did she force him to accept her touch? And how did he handle that?

And how will Ana handle hearing about it?

I have to say... I totally agree with Ana that Elena is a pedophile who abused Christian when he was too young to make the adult decisions that Elena required of him.

So this part of the back-story is just killing me. I want to know more. Damn that enigmatic Christian. He is driving me crazy.

I think he's the hero of the story, and yet... the way this book ended, he's also clearly the villain. There's just so many shades of gray (wink, grin).

Which leads me back to mainstream fiction.

(Huh? How did we get HERE?)

Christian is a sexual deviant, therefore he MUST be cast as the villain, right? At least, that's the only kind of sexual deviant the mainstream can embrace, and that's pretty much the message I received at the end of the book when Ana left. And I don't like that message.

Because I kind of like sexual deviants. They are supremely interesting.

It's why I write erotic BDSM. And believe me, my kinky Roman is so not the villain. (Come to think of it, I'm not sure any of my boys are the villain).

I am kicking myself a little bit - that if I'd made Dare a girl, *I* could be shaking up mainstream literary culture with MY book. Damn it. Made the wrong gender choice. Perhaps I should re-release Above the Dungeon under the title "Fifty Shades of Gay." But then I'd have to revise the new cover yet again. Ugh. That sounds tedious.

[image error] E L James' SiteNever mind. Now that I'm thinking of Christian Grey again, I have to go buy Fifty Shades Darker. Now. And then I'm sure I'll have to buy Fifty Shades Freed by tomorrow.

Yeah, I hate having good books to read. You know it.


Please leave some comments - do you agree with me? Disagree? Like Ana? Hate Christian? What do YOU think of Fifty Shades of Grey? Were you surprised at the direction it went? do you think E L James is an amazing storyteller? Talk to me, darlings!

SM Johnson ~A Year of Sundays ~ ch 11 pt 1

Chapter 11 – July 10
Part 1
The Sunday after our Fourth of July disaster. Siblings only, except Melanie is conspicuously absent, and Jeremy conspicuously present.
Bless us, Mother, for we have sinned. It's been six days since our last gathering. We hereby pledge to have Sunday on Sunday from now on, no matter what.
Josie said she still felt off, but none of us knew exactly what that meant. She looked okay, maybe a little pale, and said that she felt 'delicate.' Whatever that was supposed to mean.
"So, what, you're eating cautiously so you don't feel sick? Or moving carefully so you don't fall down?"
She just shook her head. Carefully.
Whatever is going on, she's not telling us. She couldn't be pregnant, could she? But by who? She doesn't really hang out with anyone but us and Jeremy, and he's fucking Silas on a regular basis, so he sure as hell isn't catting around with Jo-Jo. No, of course not. Because Jo-Jo is a virgin – at least in our eyes – and shall not be tainted.
Silas arrived a few minutes after the rest of us, carrying a BBQ feast from Famous Dave's and a box wrapped in silver paper.
"What, is it your anniversary?" Liz asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Nope." Silas grinned, then turned toward Josie and presented her the package with a dramatic flourish.
"It's a get-well present for my littlest sister. To make up for all the fun you missed at Fourth Fest, Jo-Jo."
He shot me a look that let me know quite clearly that we would not be discussing Uncle Butch today. And that was fine with me.
Josie was delighted. Her face lit up as she turned the present over in her hands, shook it gently, then smoothed her fingers over the shiny silver wrapping. "Can I open it?"
"Let's eat first," Silas suggested, and Liz and I went to the kitchen for plates and napkins. Lots of napkins.
We set the table and started passing food.
"How's Melanie doing?" Silas asked. I'd talked to him earlier in the week, but he'd been busy and I'd only been able to give him a brief update about Melanie being in the hospital.
I'd called the detox center Tuesday morning to see if she needed to be picked up, and they told me in no uncertain terms that she wasn't there, that she hadn't been there, and they didn't have any beds available so she wasn't on her way there.
They suggested I call the police.
I called the police. The desk sergeant didn't know anything, but he took my number.
I thought about calling the hospitals, but that seemed like something of an over-reaction.
And before I got to that level of worry, an officer called me back. He'd been one of the officers at the park, and he told me that Melanie had a bit of a melt-down after they put her in the car. That she'd tried to kick out the grate between the back seat and the front seat. That she made a bunch of threats and demanded they pull over and let her out of the car so she could "suicide by cop."
"Oh, no. She really said that?"
That and a whole bunch of other crazy, hysterical stuff.
So they'd brought her to the psych unit.
I called the psych unit and asked to speak to Melanie Meyerhoff.
The nurse who took my call said, and I quote, "I have no information about a patient by that name."
"Well, can you at least tell me if she's there?"
And the nurse said, "I'm sorry, I have no information about a patient by that name." But she didn't hang up.
I was stumped.
"But then where can she be?" I asked, and felt the tears creep into my voice. "She's my sister. A police officer told me he brought her there. And if she's not there, then I have no idea where she is."
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the nurse said, and her voice was gentle and kind. "But I have no information that I can give you."
And she still didn't hang up.
My brain kicked into overdrive. I felt like she really wanted to give me information about my sister, but couldn't.
"Okay," I said, still thinking. "Can I talk to a patient named Reggie Jackson?"
"There is no patient here by that name." Her answer was fast and definite.
"Can I talk to Melanie Meyerhoff?"
I heard the woman on the other end of the phone line sigh. "I have no information about a patient by that name."
Light bulb.
"If Reggie Jackson was a patient there, what would it take for me to find out how's he doing?"
"In order to give out information about Reggie Jackson, even to his wife or his sister, Reggie Jackson would have to sign a consent form giving me permission."
Bingo.
"Thank you so much," I said. "And can I bother you for one more thing?"
"Sure," she said, sounding relieved.
"If someone named Melanie Meyerhoff happens to wander in, would you please tell her to call one of her sisters? Because they are very worried about her."
"I would definitely tell her that," the nurse said, "if she were a patient here."
My phone rang within five minutes.
"Jess?"
She'd sounded exhausted.
"Yeah, sweetie. Are you okay?"
"Not really," she answered.
"I didn't know where you were. I almost freaked out."
"Sorry," she said. "I'm tired. Dr. B decided I need a major med overhaul. Starting today. It's so awful that I just want to sleep."
"Just all of a sudden?" I panicked a little. Some of Mel's periods of adjustment after med changes have been really rough.
"I don't know. Probably alcohol withdrawal, too. Everything's hazy."
"Can you have visitors? Can I come see you?"
"Oh, baby, give me a couple of days, please?"
I was shocked. A couple of days? "But won't you be out in a couple of days?"
"Not this time. Dr. B said we gotta get this figured out, and if I try to leave before he thinks I’m ready, he'll commit me again."
"Oh, shit. Is it that bad?" It was all I could say. She'd been committed once, mentally ill and chemically dependent, back when she first lost custody of Caleb. It was, I don't know, the most frightening, unexpected thing, even when it turned out to be not nearly as horrible as we'd all imagined. But she'd been doing better for years.
"Jessie, listen. I'll tell you the whole story later – this weekend, maybe – but yeah, it's that bad. This isn't the first time I've been here since mom died."
I'd pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. What? Stunned didn't even begin to describe the mind-warp she was putting me through. I put the phone back to my ear. "What? What do you mean?"
"I mean I've had two med adjustments since May, and was here once on a seventy-two-hour hold. It's bad. I promised Dr. B that I'd stay until we figure it out this time. So please, I'll call you every day, and you can visit on Saturday or something. But right now I just want to go back to bed."
"Fine. Go bed. But do me a favor, please? Sign that paper so when I call, they can at least tell me you're there."
"Okay, yeah, I'll do that. Thanks for being my awesome sister, Jessie."

SM Johnson ~Thursday Morning Coffee~ Face of a killer

Good morning, darlings! Welcome to Truly Mushy Cranium. Oh, wait, that was last night. This is Thursday Morning Coffee. Much better.

<-- OMG, the cup to my left is more than half empty. Tragic.

But no need panic, because the cup to my right is bigger, and it's full. Whew, we'll get through the day, after all.

I know this is really creepy, but today I must show you the face of a killer so that you will not be caught unawares, like I was.

It was yesterday morning, and it was all very shocking and unpleasant.

Code Name: Colby

Nickname: Sir Purrs-a-lot

I know what you're thinking - he doesn't look all that dangerous, and he certainly doesn't look violent. In fact, he looks kind of, well... sweet. In a shady sort of way.

I know. I do know this.

He's been around here for awhile now, and he absolutely adores me. Hates everyone else who lives here, but I am his person, and me and all the people in my head are people enough for him.

Truth is that we've been so long without corpses around here that I totally forgot this sweet-faced boy was originally brought into the house as a kibble-paid assassin.

He apparently kept up on his skills,  and when an interloper broke in, took care of the trouble while we slept, completely unaware that we'd been infiltrated.  There was blood. There was gore. There was a mouska-corpse.

It was all rather unpleasant. Especially the part where I was attempting to remove the blood stains and remembered that the assassin had awakened me with gentle face-pats from his paw, and a fierce nose-to-nose nudge. Ewwwwww.

This isn't the only think hinky going on in this house, either.

This morning I found this in the living room. Let's call it Exhibit D, a clear case of "Leap and Slide."

Which is somewhat mystifying, because before the living room comes A) the mudroom B) the kitchen C) the dining room. There are NO mudprints whatsoever between point A and Exhibit D.

The main question is how the heck did the dog retain her mud all the way from the mudroom to the living room without leaving a full trail of prints?

There is no mystery about the actual leap and slide. I know, from past experience, that The Orange Assassin  must have been perched adorably on the dog's side of the gate, with the full and outright intention of torturing the dog (Code Name Jazz, Nickname Meat-head) with his adorableness.

A blurry phone photo of the paw-print culprit, standing right next to the incriminating evidence because she is a total meat-head ------------->

Of course we are having a party here on Sunday. A sweet and formal 1st Communion celebration. Not because we are religious, but because the Sprite wants to take communion like everyone else when she goes to Catholic church with grandma. And I'm not going to be the buzz-kill on that one, whether I care for organized religion or not. I think education is a fine thing, and I want to provide Sprite with whatever tools she needs to figure out the God question for herself.

Plus, there will be cake.

But as of today, I have blood traces on one carpet, and clear dog prints on the other. Which means I really should wrap up this Thursday Morning Coffee gig and get out the carpet cleaner and the vaccuum, the dust mop and the iPhone. Dial me up a little Bob and Sheri on the podcast, and get busy putting this house in order.

'Cause on Sunday there will be cake.

SM Johnson ~Bloody Monday~ Gray Justice

Nope, not Fifty Shades of Gray. Not yet.

Right now I am reading Gray Justice by Alan McDermott. I had no idea what to expect when I picked it up, but so far, so great!

It's pretty dark. One of those books that, while you're reading, you wonder how the Main Character will ever survive the huge mess he's put himself into. But since this is subtitled "Tom Gray #1" - I have to think that somehow Gray IS going to get out of the mess. I still can't imagine how.

Speaking of revenge fantasies (because that is what I'm speaking of), I went into the grocery store this afternoon to order a cake (only to discover the bakery isn't staffed at 2 PM) and walked out with a Jack Reacher novel.

The Reacher fan that lives inside my evil little heart absolutely LOVES a good, hard revenge fantasy, and Lee Child does a tremendous job. Hanging with Reacher feels like being told a great story by an exceptionally calm, cool, and collected friend.

Revenge fantasies are one of the best reasons I can think of to write fiction - you can get your revenge, even if only in your imagination. And even when it's only in your imagination, it can be shockingly satisfying.

So, darlings, tell me your favorite fictional revenge fantasy.

How's that for a stellar start to your week?

SM Johnson ~A Year of Sundays~ ch 10 pt 5

Chapter 10 - Fourth of July
Part 5
I wouldn't have thought the day could get any worse, what with Josie, the organizer of our fun Fourth of July, home sick, and finding out Silas was molested by Uncle Butch. Wasn't that enough?
Silas didn't return to the park. After pulling away from my hug, he went home. He looked hollow and fragile as he walked away, and I tried to remember if he'd ever looked like that after visiting Uncle Butch. But no, that was self-defeating. I was only six and wouldn't have noticed if he had. So then I tried to remember if Uncle Butch had ever touched me inappropriately, or made me feel uncomfortable in any way. But nothing came to mind. So probably not.
It was only two o'clock, still many, many hours until fireworks.
I tucked two wine coolers and two beers into Sam's chair bag and headed back, noticing all of a sudden that the temperature seemed to have soared up into the eighties. Linda, my golf-cart-driving volunteer friend came by and picked me up. Sweet relief. She was definitely the woman to know today.
She delivered me to the remains of our family gathering. The blankets had been dragged further into the shade, and Melanie was watching the band through half-closed eyes.
Sam and Eric had returned, and Dean Johnson was nowhere in sight. Well, there was one small piece of good news. Liz was strongly encouraging everyone to eat.
I cracked open another wine cooler, handed Sam a beer, and loaded up a plate, just in time for Annabelle to take it off my hands.
That's how it goes.
I loaded up another plate and offered it to Mel. "You should eat."
"Not hungry," she growled at me.
"Yeah, but you should eat, anyway. It would be good to add food to your beer."
"No thanks." Her eyes were slits, but her mouth was smiling in an odd, ambiguous way. "Beer is all I need today."
I handed the plate to Caleb, who'd arrived seconds behind Annabelle.
And since Liz had fixed plates for Sam and Eric  before I got back, I finally sat down and ate.
The band was good, but winding down. And the food was good, but the absences were glaring. Even more so after Sam answered his phone.
"Jimmy called in sick, and Bill called in dead. I'm pretty sure Bill is lying. But that puts me in a truck. Sorry, Sweetie." He kissed my cheek and the top of Annabelle's head. "Have a nice slacker day."
"Are you taking the car?" I asked, thinking getting home was going to be really confusing.
"Nope, one of the drivers who isn't sick or dead is meeting me in the parking lot. You're in the clear."
Eric watched him go.
The band ended their set, and without their musical energy, the whole area felt like it was getting ready for an afternoon nap.
"Starting to look like sibling-only day," Eric said.
"Oh, come on, you're not leaving, too, are you?" Liz asked, chuffing at him and shaking her head.
"Well…" Eric said, then paused. "Maybe Jessamine can give you a ride?"
Liz threw up her hands. "Fine. Go. We'll just have a sister day. It'll be fine. Hell, it'll probably be more fun. Ha."
Liz put the food away, and I went and got funnel cakes and cokes for Caleb and Annabelle. It was a direct and total bribe to get them to stay with our blankets and chairs while we girls checked out the vendor booths. I gazed longingly at jewelry I'd never wear. Melanie tried on hats, and Liz spent long minutes learning how to place a big, glitzy charm onto a stylish scarf. And even though the scarf charm was obnoxiously large, it looked pretty cool.
Dean bumped into Liz. Oh, he made it seem like an accident, but somehow I doubted that. When we figured we'd been long enough for the kids to finish their colas and start vibrating, we headed back. And still Dean tagged along.
Melanie disappeared, Dean was nothing but properly polite, and next few hours were uneventful as the music waxed from tolerable to fantastic.
And then.
Just as we were settling down to wait for the fireworks to start, Mel showed up swearing, dragging Caleb by the hand to the blanket.
Caleb looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world but here.
Liz grabbed her. "Mellie, what's going on?"
"Oh, shit, oh, shit." Mel started keening and crying the way you only see when you're at a funeral, or hanging out with a drunk chick. She crumpled to the ground, dragging Liz along to create a heap of misery.
Caleb tugged on my arm. "She got in an argument with my dad. He was really yelling. He said she's irresponsible."
"That's a big word," I said, because I had no idea what else to say. Mel was clearly in violation of her visitation agreement, and if Craig saw her here, there were going to be repercussions.
He rolled his eyes at me. "Yeah, but it's true. She's getting sicker."
Annabelle was tucked in close to my side. "What's wrong with her?" she asked, about Melanie.
"She had too much grown-up juice and it's made her silly," I explained.
Unfortunately, right about then, Caleb's dad, Craig, and the cops showed up. Uh-oh. This wasn't going to blow over until Craig pulled her into court again.
The two officers pulled Melanie to her feet and took her about ten yards away to talk to her. Craig told Caleb to stay put and went along with them.
Caleb scooted closer to me, wrapped his arms around his knees, and started to rock.
"It's going to be all right," I told him. "They both love you."
"Yeah. Mom just doesn't do well with rules."
"Well, that's true."
Melanie's wail reached us over the music, and jerked our heads up so our eyes could find her. Caleb was halfway to his feet when I grabbed him and pulled him onto my lap. "Stay here," I said. "Us getting involved will only confuse things."
I held onto the kids. But when Melanie got louder, angrier, and more hysterical, Liz went to her. And when Mel took a swing at one of the cops, it was Liz, a head taller than Mel, who got between them, and grabbed Melanie by the wrists.
I could see Liz talking to Mel, see the intensity of their facial expressions, Liz deadly serious, earnest, Mellie shaking her head violently, and actually pawing the ground with her shoe.
The kids were staring.
Just as I was wondering if I should take them away to get another coke, the sky exploded with color.
"Wish on a firework for Auntie Josie," I told Annabelle, and she held her arms up toward the sky and said, "Don't be sick anymore, Auntie."
It was so honest and sweet I almost choked up. I said my wish, too, that the docs would figure out why Josie was getting headaches.
I kept a surreptitious eye on the Melanie drama, while the kids and the crowd ooh-ed and ahh-ed. The ones that explode then slowly droop like weeping willows were still my favorite. Annabelle exclaimed, "Look! Look!" and clapped her hands when one of them exploded into a giant purple peace sign.
By the time the show was over, Melanie was gone.
Craig came over to sit by Caleb.
"Come home with me tonight, buddy," Craig said, and Caleb nodded.
I didn’t really want to talk to Craig. He was right, of course. Melanie's drinking was getting out of control, and Caleb should never have to deal with that. It left him an eleven-year old adult, and that wasn't fair.
"We all watch out for him," I finally said.
"I know," Craig answered. "And I appreciate that. You guys are always great. I had a feeling that there was more going on with Mel than Caleb was letting on. He hates to be the one to get her in trouble."
"Where'd she go?" I asked.
"They said they were taking her to detox. I'm sorry."
I shrugged. The ongoing battle between Melanie and Craig was civil and almost silent. There wasn't a lot of shouting or arguing. Just Craig keeping vigil and Melanie fucking up. 


And Caleb, well-loved, in the middle of it all.