Tuesday I attended my fourth Erotic Literary Salon, reading three selections from Madam Jillinghoff's Bedroom Rhymes: The Beautiful Youth of the Sonnnets, The Neighbor's Complaint, and Wee Willie's Winkie. I'm always afraid I'm going to run out of material for these get-togethers, but the first and last of my selections were written in the just past three weeks.
The verses went over well. At least the laughs came in the right places. (The sonnet got the biggest.) It was a strong group of writers, though, perhaps the strongest I've heard since I began attending last November. It was hard to shine in such company. Some authors read better than others, of course, but all of the writing was superior. The hottest moments were provided by a first-timer, a slip of a blonde who read what purported to be a memoir about a sleepover with a girlfriend.