True Love and other Myths

Before I start, I'll admit that I may be feeling a little bitter as I write this. I'll also admit that "a little" may be an understatement. But I do believe that nowadays we live in a world where love and relationships are so over hyped that it would be impossible to achieve the supposed ideal.

1. True love lasts forever
No. I don't buy it for a second. Yes, you may see couples who have been together their whole lives. Sometimes even first lovers who have never been with anyone else. But I don't for a second believe that they never have their moments of doubt and despair. In my opinion it would be impossible for two people to always feel love for one another. I'm sure even the most "perfect" couple has times when they just want to murder each other in a spectacularly violent fashion.

2. Soul mates
Nothing short of drinking too much tickles my gag reflex like the phrase 'so-and-so and I are SOUL MATES!'. Really? Another one is 'we finish eachother's sentences'. Ugh! The world is a big place, and people vary so much in tastes, character, outlook, that I simply cannot believe that there is this one person out there who matches me perfectly. The best we can hope for is some overlap to make every day life run smoothly. Maybe some shared interests and similar religious background (or lack thereof), just so you don't fight every time you settle down to watch some TV, or discuss current affairs. But the world is simply too diverse for two people to be exactly the same. And if that was the case, it would be incredibly boring also. Which leads me onto my next point;

3. Happy couples should do EVERYTHING together
Oh god no! If you've found someone you enjoy spending time with, don't go and ruin it by spending every waking moment with them. Doing everything with them, involving them in every one of your tedious daily affairs. When I was young, much like everyone else, I had received my fill of 'they lived happily ever after' fairytale brainwashing. Therefore I never used to understand when my mother advised; 'You know it's good for couples to have different jobs. What would they talk about if they already spent all day together at work?' It may have sounded unromantic to the young me, but it's true. Nothing gets boring quicker in a relationship than not having your own identity.

4. You never keep secrets from your partner
Judge as some of you may, I think there are good reasons to keep secrets. It might be too presumptuous of me to assume that a lot of people have deep, dark thoughts and fantasies that they fear nobody else might understand. But it certainly can be the case. Not telling your partner, doesn't mean you don't love them. Also not every fantasy is meant to be acted out, some are much safer locked away in the depths of your mind where they cannot hurt anyone, especially your other half. While it's relatively easy to give your body and your heart to someone, giving every one of your thoughts is in an entirely different league. Not everyone can hope to achieve this ideal, so there is no reason to feel bad about it.

5. When you love each other, you'll never look at anyone else, think about anyone else, do anyone else
Wouldn't it be nice, to be such a selfless and pure person. Never plagued by curiosity about what it might be like, on the other side of the fence. Fine, during the honeymoon period when your hormones are going wild for the other person, perhaps you won't glance at the attractive waitress at the restaurant. Or appreciate the perfect physique of the barista serving up your morning cappuccino. But as time passes, so does that insane obsession with your other half. Love may make you blind, while you're newly in love. But sooner or later, your eyes are wide open. And personally I don't think there is anything wrong with looking around, watching porn, having horny thoughts or dreams about others. Depending on your own moral compass and any agreements between you and your partner, it might even be ok to act on such feelings.

In my opinion, true love is being able to accept that the other person isn't perfect, isn't all you've ever wanted, but they're yours and that's enough (mostly). And no matter how much you want to clobber them over the head with a cricket bat every so often. Once you've calmed down, you return to them and retain the ability to make each other smile.

Not Enough - III

Note: Please read 1 August 2006, Not Enough - I, Not Enough - II first to get the full story.

“History is written by the victors”
Sir Winston Churchill

3 August 2012. I wonder if I can will the situation in my favour by continuing to write about it. Perhaps this way, I can force a happy ending for us. Either way I’m going to try.

Today’s Friday and I’m very glad indeed. Soon we’ll have the weekend to ourselves. We’ve been working on an old motorcycle together, trying to change a few bits and pieces; seat, tail light, indicators... I’ve never done anything like it before, but it’s nice to be actually involved instead of watching others do similar things on Discovery.

The day passes, nothing much happens. Except the delivery of my brand new tail light. So I come home triumphantly carrying the light, excited to try and see what it will look like on the bike. He’s already home of course, his office is only 10 minutes away. As I come in, he gets up and walks towards me, muting the TV. The look on his face is hard to place, sort of uncertain, insecure.

“We did it today, lunchtime.” He looks worried now, waiting for me to react. It’s obvious what he means.

I don’t know what to say, I try looking at the floor, fighting back the tears. Damn it why do I cry so easily! Today?! I’ve hardly had time to think, to get used to the idea. I thought I had time...

“I’m sorry. You’re upset.” He hugs me, his arms enveloping me completely. I can’t move, so I just stand there, arms hanging down by my sides. “If it upsets you so much, we won’t do it you know.”

“What do you mean ‘we won’t’? You did or you didn’t?” I push him back, looking at him, eyes narrowed. This time it’s him avoiding my gaze, I don’t know what to make of this at all.

“Well?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know details... That maybe it would help if you weren’t sure.” This time he’s looking at the floor.

“Yeah but I didn’t want you telling me in a half-assed manner either! Now you started talking, you don’t get to be vague about it! Either you fucking did or didn’t, which is it?” I feel myself getting annoyed now. Why is he playing around? I try to calm myself down - deeply breathing in and out.

“We did... I can’t keep secrets from you.” His voice sounds small, scared. “Please don’t hate me.”

Well at least that takes care of the uncertainty I was feeling, over whether he’d go through with it. That ship has now sailed. He went through with it. Tears are properly streaming down my face now but I’m hardly making a sound.

“You told me about the 25th. And now you’ve done it already. I thought I had time to get used to the idea.” I pause and press my face against him, waiting for him to put his arms around me again.

I dry my face in his T-shirt and pick up the tail light. I need to distract myself from this mess. The motorcycle is parked in the garden; I quickly walk towards it with my new light. Held against the back of the seat, it looks exactly how I had hoped, I connect it up to test if it works. He’s watching me as I press the brake and flip the light switch a few times. It must be showing on my face that I’m pleased with the result because he comes over and holds me again.

“You’re happy with the new light? Good.”

I don’t know happy is the right word to describe my feelings right now, but yes the light is good. I nod.

“We share so much together, please don’t take this personally. You’ll always be the one I love.”

He still has his arm around me as we go back inside.

There’s a sealed envelope on the dining table with his name on it.

“What’s this?” I pick it up to show him.

“Her wedding invitation.” He opens it as we sit down on the sofa. Saturday the 10th of November, 7pm onwards. As I’m reading the card I can’t help but feel sorry for her fiance. He has no clue at all. 

“I guess I’ll be going by myself," he says.

“What?! I’m not invited? She gets to fuck you and I don’t even get free food in return? Unacceptable” My sense of humour is coming back, that’s something. 

“Though I could see how it would be awkward to meet her and her hubby-to-be. ‘Hi I’m the wife of the one your wife is fucking’,” I continue. 

He pulls me towards him and we both lie down on the sofa, me on top of him in his arms, my head resting on his chest. He starts telling me absentmindedly about something that happened on his drive home, some speed trap nearby, he comments she may have got a ticket.

“You brought her here?” I’m a bit shocked; after all he’d said himself he didn’t want to bring her into our house. Looking around the living room there are bike parts, dust everywhere. “It’s filthy in here!”

He can’t stop himself from laughing. “Silly cow, THAT’S your biggest worry? That the place is dirty?”
I realise it’s quite stupid but I can’t help myself. I promise myself that I’ll clean up properly this weekend.

“You’re going to laugh some more.. I’m writing a book.”

“What book?”

“About this. I thought it might be a good outlet. Since I can’t really talk to anyone about it.”

“You can talk to me!” He seems hurt. Men!

“Yeah I can talk to you, but that’s not how it works! Women tend to talk about emotional stuff to deal with things.”

“So why don’t you talk to your best friend about it?” Honestly? He really doesn’t get it.

“Well I can’t. Not until I’m OK with everything. It’s not an easy topic and I don’t want to get into a conversation about what I should and shouldn’t accept and how you’re a mean bastard who hurt me.”

“Fine ok, that makes sense. Well if you think writing will help.”

I didn’t want to tell him. But I just blurted it out. But I don’t think I’ll let him read it, ever.

“You fucked up my whole storyline. I had 25 days to write about until it would happen. And you went and did it already!”

My remark seems to have amused him. “Sorry…” he says sheepishly.

For a few minutes I’m lying in his arms quietly. Surely, he didn’t do it in the bed like he promised me he wouldn’t... I look around some more, lift my head to look at him.

“The sofa...?” 

He nods.

It troubles me a bit, but I lie down again and close my eyes.

“I’m getting used to the idea. But I can’t promise it’s not going to come back to bother me again.” And I can’t promise I won’t bring it up in snide remarks during arguments either. I let out a deep sigh.

He strokes my back and I relax some more. Emotions sure are exhausting. I close my eyes and start drifting away.

Keep calm, all hope is lost. 

Ladies' Day - a little taster.

My first little ebook, Ladies' Day, has been out for a little while now. It's an erotic short story (roughly 34 pages according to Amazon); two strangers and their chance meeting at the side of the road after Ladies' Day at Royal Ascot. 

 

Available on Amazon.com

 

Or Amazon.co.uk

 

Why not get a little taste of it from the short except below:

“Excuse me, where’s your bathroom?” His call is coming from the back door.

“Oh please come in, it’s just over there...” I point at the door leading off the hallway.

Still the contrast between us is startling to me, he looks like everything I am not in his formals which probably cost more than my car is worth. At the same time I - at 25 - still dress like I did as a teenager, faded jeans and inappropriately tight t-shirts. The only “fancy” clothes I own are worn exclusively to job interviews and then too they’re Primark or at a stretch Next. You could mistake me for a simple idealist, not moved by worldly possessions, when in fact I am just a bit stingy and lazy.

But strangely, he looks at home, walking over the terracotta tiles and towards the door I’ve just shown him. Taking in the decor, glancing at the eclectic mix of paintings and photographs on my walls on his way. Like he is meant to be here, in my house. I try and shake off that thought. He’s just some stranger and I’m an idiot for doing this.

The ping of the oven timer brings me back to reality and I pile all the food, plates and cutlery high onto a tray, and head back out. After I’ve arranged everything on the wooden table and make another trip for the cushions, a water jug and the aforementioned cheap wine, he comes back out as well.

“Oh you didn’t need to...” He says, smiling at me. Looking at him now, more relaxed and at ease, I feel like I’m getting a hint of his usual demeanor. Charismatic is probably the best word for it. Like he should be a politician, but still strangely genuine and trustworthy.

“I sort of did, I’m starving,” I respond, “and Dominos doesn’t deliver here.”

He lets out a laugh while sitting down on the bench beside me. Thankfully it’s large and sturdy, quite over spec for my usual needs as a single woman.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” I point at the food, wine and water, “unless you want coffee or tea, I can do that too.”

“Yeah, I don’t tend to drink much, is it that obvious?” He smiles again. My heart is pounding in my chest; I can’t get over how handsome he is, by body language perhaps even more so than simply looks.

“Well, whatever you need, just ask.” My eyes are drawn towards his, in this light they seem more turquoise than blue. He holds my gaze just a little longer than strictly necessary before picking up the wine and corkscrew.

“I suppose one glass won’t hurt. I promise I don’t feel ill anymore.” He doesn’t look it either, must be the fresh air.

“Don’t be so sure, you haven’t tried it yet. It’s probably nowhere near the quality you’re used to.” I say, still mesmerised by his eyes.

He grins at me. “Everything is only as good as the company it’s enjoyed in.”

I feel the corners of my mouth curl up practically by themselves, this is a game I know how to play.

 “Well, and what do you know about current company other than that I was overly keen to get my hands on your car keys?”

“Firstly, you took a huge risk trying to help out a complete stranger,” winking at me, he adds, “car keys or no car keys.”

I take the glass of wine he has poured for me.

“Furthermore, I don’t recall the last time anyone has made an effort putting together a meal for me...” His gaze wanders out over the field again.

“Fine, if you say so,” I say, “but for all you know I could be a psychopath, only pretending to be friendly.”

He looks back at me again, the amused glint in his eyes reappearing. “So could I.”

“Cheers,” I say, raising my glass towards him, “to us, pretending to be friendly.”

We both take a sip, stealing little looks at each other in turn. 

I would be really grateful for some feedback. Also, I'm working on a few more things, at least one of which I intend to publish within this year. Do check back here or on Facebook/Twitter for updates if you're interested in reading more of my work.

Growing up Hedonist-style

For some reason I've been looking back on my teenage years lately. My poor mom had her hands full, raising a volatile rebellious version of me by herself and I certainly did not make it easy for her. She never fully knew what I was up to, until years later (over a glass or two of wine) I answered some of her more prying questions. But I suppose the things she did get wind of, were probably stressful enough at the time.

 

My top 5 classic Teenage-Hedonist moments:

 

1. Sex Ed. 

I suppose I was about 13 when our school had a 2 day special Sex education programme. Many topics were discussed in a typical European manner; one where children are encouraged to be open and honest, the aim being to instill tolerance for all things different. After a particularly long discussion in class about what we can and cannot discuss with our parents, I felt liberated. Plus I was already quite rebellious with a "don't give a fuck what anyone thinks" attitude. Upon coming home, I decided to strike up a conversation.

"Mom, if I was a lesbian, what would you say?"

"What am I supposed to say. You are what you are."

"Wouldn't you mind?"

"No. Why are you asking?"

"Oh we had this discussion thing in school. About tolerance and stuff."

....

"Mom, what do you think about oral sex?"

*spluttering, coughing noise*

"Err, you're too young!"

"Yeah ok, but do you think it's right or wrong?"

*awkward silence*

"Well would you do it?"

*Mom turns bright red*

"That's something everyone should decide for themselves."

I never got my answer....

 

2. Extra-curricular Activities

I grew up in a small, boring town with about 100,000 inhabitants. As a result the town centre was particularly unexciting and had a poor selection of shops. But when I was 14 or 15, something exciting opened up, just a bit outside the normal shopping zone. Just a bit further from view, but it didn't go unnoticed. Something with shiny latex outfits in the window, yet minus the seedy neon "Sex shop" sign.

Due to the lacklustre shopping avenues in our home town, of course us teenage girls would often take a train to a larger city nearby to do our shopping. One where dimly lit "Sex Shops" were nothing unusual. Those were scary looking from the outside though, the windows were darkened so you couldn't look inside. And until you'd set foot in one you wouldn't know what was in there. So I'd never been in one.

This new, bright and airy shop with the kinky clothes was different and not so scary at all. Basically like Ann Summers, an entirely new concept to me at the time.

After noticing this shop on a previous trip to the town centre. One day I waited until the street was empty and ventured inside. I was a naive teen and a virgin. And I came home with my first little vibrator (the big ones just seemed impossible). Once I had paid I excitedly took the opaque plastic bag I was handed with this much coveted possession and left the shop. I was so over the moon that it didn't bother me much that a builder loitering outside made a particularly rude remark. Not bothering with a comeback, I simply gave him the finger and walked off smiling.

 

3. My 12th Birthday. 

Not quite teenage, granted. But the story fits in as being fairly embarrassing.
Let me start by saying my mother wasn't a nudist; far from it. But I wasn't brought up to be ashamed of nudity either and it wasn't until I hit puberty that I had any issues changing in front of her, and vice versa. So yes, this may seem shocking to some people but I've seen my mother naked. But during the previous few months something else new did happen. Mom had started dating. For the first time since my dad passed when I was just a toddler, it wasn't just us girls.

On the morning of my 12th Birthday:

"Happy birthday, darling. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Meh."

"What's wrong, why so grumpy?"

"You woke me, you know."

*Mom giving me the WTF raised eyebrow look*

"You, and your boyfriend! I woke up and heard something really weird. It was freaking me out. Like sort of howling."

*Mom turning pink*

"I got up to figure out where the racket was coming from, opened your door..."

*awkward silence*

"How could you! On MY birthday!" 

That morning, after the first time her boyfriend spent the night, I discovered that my mother is a screamer. And my biggest worry was that she had disturbed my sleep on my birthday.

 

4. Stern instruction

I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to boys. Apparently being a Goth was a fairly effective form of contraception in my school. My first boyfriend therefore didn't go to my school at all. In fact he wasn't in school anymore. And he wasn't in the same country either.

I had an internet relationship with a guy 6 years older than me starting at age 15. When I was 16, he finally visited. Bearing in mind that I had just picked him up at the airport by myself, by train, and we'd spent about 1 hour face to face in total, coming home to face my mother was frankly the least of my worries. (Just to clarify; yes she knew and she agreed that he could stay. Us Europeans are cool that way.)

So while she offered him tea, he went to unpack his stuff to take out the various gifts and things he had brought for me. Some of it was clothes, prompting mom and him both to cheer: "Try it on! Try it on!".

No sooner had I stepped out of the living room and closed the door in order to change in the hallway, I hear mom put on the distinctive voice she uses when she's trying to be an authority figure.

"Please, whatever you do, use a condom!"

"Err.. Ma'm.. we're not.."

"Whatever, use a condom. I do not want my daughter pregnant. She's only 16."
 
I nearly died laughing in the hallway. At that point, we hadn't even had our first kiss.

 

5. Busted

So as you've already read above. I had decided at around 15, that I wanted to try out vibrators. I was exploring my body and I really wanted to give myself an orgasm. One wasn't quite enough, because it was a fairly simple one. I especially went back to the same shop and had them order one in that was different, waterproof.

I anyway love to take long showers, that day it was even longer. I experimented and did my best with the new toy. I didn't quite cum but it was interesting. I vowed to try that again until I would succeed.

Later that same evening the conversation went something like this:

"May I make a request." *grumpy expression*

"What, mom?"

"Don't leave your... THINGS... in the shower."

"What?"

"Your thing. Your fake PENIS."

"Oh."

The Amazon Free Promotion Experiment

My last blog post, for those who read it, already announced that I have self published my first ever work on Amazon. For better of for worse I opted to enroll in KDP Select which means I can choose to give away the ebook for free during 5 days in each given 6 month period.The downside is I am locking myself into an agreement to exclusively sell on Amazon, and not on any other ebook market places such as Smashwords, Apple iBooks, etc.

Now, obviously I'd prefer people to buy it so I get paid royalties, but I have read on other author's blogs that a free promotion can do wonders for future book sales. So I thought I'd give it a go.

For 24 hours yesterday, my ebook, "Ladies' Day" was available for free on Amazon Kindle. Now I was planning to be very productive and promote this fact on Facebook and Twitter, and also on this blog, but it didn't quite work out that way.

Instead of waking up fresh and ready to spam the internet, I woke up with a terrible sinus headache and opted to stay in bed all day. I didn't post a single link to my book page, didn't tell a soul that it would be free for 24 hours. Though not ideal, at least I figure this free promotion can serve as a benchmark for any future marketing I do. And for the benefit of other self publishing authors out there, I decided to publish my figures for what might happen when you give away an erotic story (normal price $0.99 or so) without doing a single bit of promotion for it.

Downloads:
Amazon.com - 87
Amazon.co.uk - 33 (one of these was me)
Amazon.de - 11
Amazon.fr - 1

Rankings:
No idea what it was like yesterday but this morning I was ranked 98 in the Amazon.co.uk Free Bestsellers within the Erotic fiction category. My book was nowhere to be found in the Amazon.com bestseller list. This tells me that potentially the market for Erotica in the UK is very small, if I can make it into the top 100 with only 33 downloads.

Reviews / Likes:
I don't see any discernible increase in Likes on my book, but then I haven't really been keeping tabs a lot on how many likes I had before. There have been no reviews.

Verdict:
I have no idea yet if this was worth it. But it seems once you start giving stuff away for free, someone or other will notice and download it. This alone is quite promising. I'll have to assume that at least some of the people who got a free copy will read it, at least in part. And just maybe they'll later be inclined to leave a review, even if it's negative.

On the other hand, the next time I do a free promotion, I hope to actually manage to plaster my link all over Facebook/Twitter and maybe websites that list free ebooks. And if I do that, I should be able to see fairly easily if the downloads I'm getting are similar to these current figures, or if there will be a visible increase in downloads due to the social marketing efforts I'll be putting in.

2 Weeks later:
Although of course I was very pleased that I managed relatively many downloads with zero promotion, it's the commercial results that count. To be honest there haven't been any that I could find.
No reviews as a result of the free promotion.
No increase in sales that could be attributed to the free promotion.

Next time I give away my book for free and actually advertise that fact, I'll write another post which should show a dramatic difference in exposure and hopefully an increase in sales by the end of it.