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In case you hadn't noticed, I failed to get it up today. Lots of work this week and I just didn't get to the blog. Here's to next week!
This is number ninety-five in the blog series, “My Life in Erotica.” I encourage you to join my Patreon community to support my writing.
A LOVELY STRIPPER friend of mine was talking with me a few weeks ago and said, “I didn’t go to work or on my date last night because I thought I had strep. Because morals, you know?” It turned out she was especially concerned about exposing me to her germs because of my age and my recent heart condition. What a sweetheart!
Morals!
According to Merriam-Webster—as good a source for definitions as I need—morals describe one’s particular values concerning what is right and what is wrong.
This is another case in which I find society has twisted a meaning to its own convenience. People seldom evaluate their own thoughts and actions based on their morals. Morals have instead become what we judge others by. “She’s a stripper. That’s immoral!” No, it’s not. She’s a fine young woman with a healthy understanding of what is right and wrong that is not based on a bunch of archaic rules that certain people attempt to wield over others. Her morals are based on care and concern for others, and rule her own personal conduct.
While that’s a good object lesson regarding what I mean when I say "morals," it doesn’t really focus on why I think fiction has some kind of moral obligation. So, I’ll clarify the title.
My Moral Obligation when Writing Fiction—Even Erotica.
There, now you can breathe a sigh of relief because I am not holding all written fiction to the standard of my morals, as some people would do. (Like my ex.) I would suggest that all writers should abide by their own morals when writing fiction because as a reader, I attempt to decipher the writer’s morals from what he or she has written. Fiction tells a lot about the author.
Last week, I cited my sister complaining that the father in a story was not like our father. I said, “It’s fiction. Not our father.” The problem was that I described an event and some physical characteristics of our father. But I then went on to describe the father I wished I had rather than the one I had. And in fact, I described the father I wanted to be.
That’s true in several of my stories that have a father figure. The father in Soulmates, hopefully releasing at the end of the month, is based on what I would want to do if I was in the position of being a single father of a five-year-old with a disability. Even as I was writing, I constantly questioned whether David was doing enough and whether that was the best I could hope to do. As in real life, I had too much opportunity to not live up to my own morals.
In Devon Layne’s Erotic Paranormal Romance Western Adventures, published in 2013-2017, I dealt with some touchy issues of incest. In Redtail, Cole is in love with his cousin Mary Beth. When he time travels, he falls in love with a woman who turns out to be his great grandmother. But when they meet, they are the same age and not related. My morals say intergenerational incest is not right. It is voided by the situational ethics of their meeting.
On the other hand, Ramie and Kyle in Blackfeather are half-siblings. When there is no issue of power of one party over the other, I don’t have a difficulty with sibling or cousin incest. Note, however, that I won’t cross the line into incest if there is an issue of one party having power over the other. That is against my morals. I believe in informed consent among equals.
In Yelloweye, half-siblings Phile and Caitlin share a bond with each other over centuries as they live two lifetimes simultaneously. In one they are not related, but in both they share a mystical connection that overrides their kinship.
But will you ever see a parent-child incest story from my pen? Let all the powers that be strike me down before I cross that moral line.
The Erotic Paranormal Romance Western Adventures are available as both a collection and individual eBooks on Bookapy. Paperbacks are available online.
I think that the primary moral obligation I have in fiction is honesty. I can create a new universe and establish the rules that govern it. 1+1=3? Okay, as long as I’ve developed a mathematical system for that universe that is consistent with that rule and I honestly follow it. Obviously, there are easier things to create in a universe. In the Soulmates universe, there are people who can hear others’ thoughts. But those people need to deal with the ethics of voyeurism! Maybe it’s okay and even unavoidable in some instances, but in others, people have a right to privacy. Much of the story revolves around finding that moral divide.
In the Model Student series, I created a character who was depressed. I felt morally obligated to honestly deal with depression. Having Tony cured because he has sex and awards for his paintings isn’t honest. That’s not how depression works.
Whatever construct around which I build a universe, I need to honestly fit my characters and action into. The most difficult aspect I deal with is creating a universe that doesn’t cross my own moral boundaries.
For example, I believe that all sexual encounters need to be consensual. If there is a rape, it is evil—no questions asked. I do not differentiate between ‘rape’ and ‘non-consensual.’ One is the definition of the other. Therefore, I consider all the mind-control stories I’ve read to be stories of rape.
So, how could I justify my Demon Bob taking possession of five women who will do anything for him? First of all, he's a demon! However, in each of those cases, the women were given the opportunity to opt out. Each of the five asked to be possessed. Five in 4,000 years was pretty good because Bob actively attempted to avoid possessing people.
I mentioned last week that I wrote a story in 2012 that was a mind-control story. The woman was helpless to disobey the voice of command she heard in her head. But the voice of command proves to be her own split personality giving her commands, not an outside person. Reconciling her multiple personalities is the real crux of the story.
Whatever the issue, I believe I have to deal with it honestly, even if I’ve written a character who does not conform to my morals.
You will find that I deal with social issues like rich vs. poor, gay rights, women’s rights, transgender rights, depression, injury, autism, and Asperger’s, among others, as honestly and straight-forwardly as possible. I owe it to those characters to not take shortcuts with them or provide miracles.
And I owe it to my readers, whether I’m writing a literary fiction about a man with no memory, or an erotic figure who equates pleasure with pain. It would be immoral of me not to treat them honestly.
Pretty bold statements, right? Well, you might as well know now that I fail as often as I succeed. When you set a high standard for yourself, it’s really easy not to live up to it. Next week: “Failing.”
This is number ninety-four in the blog series, “My Life in Erotica.” I encourage you to join my Patreon community to support my writing.
NO, THAT’S NOT the frustrated cry of an author whose fans believe he must be the most oversexed 75-year-old in the world. Nor whose sister believes every time she reads something that sounds familiar that the story must be about our family. Yes, I’ll remind both that it’s fiction, not an autobiography!
But if it’s not that, what is it?
It’s what I constantly remind myself when the details are getting too gritty and real. It’s what I tell myself when I see a person on the street and nearly call out to her because she looks exactly like Whitney in the Model Student series. Or when I finally think of a snappy comeback to what another person said three days ago.
It’s just a story. Characters I made up in my head. A paragraph I can edit later. Something I once saw that would make a great backdrop for a scene I’m writing. It’s fiction, damn it!
If I’m writing fiction, why do I write things that are so based in actual events and issues: Vietnam, AI, writing, dying detectives, violent death, transsexuals, the homeless? It’s a bit of a contradiction in terms, but I’ll include as my next post “The Moral Obligation of Fiction—Even Erotica.”
This is number ninety-three in the blog series, “My Life in Erotica.” I encourage you to join my Patreon community to support my writing.
I ALWAYS FIGURED I’d grow old. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon! I’m often mistaken for an adult because of my age.
2024 was the year I lived to celebrate my dodranscentennial, or platinum jubilee! That’s right. This young man is now seventy-five years old. But there was a time I didn’t think I’d make it to the party. Now, my heart is beating strong and I’m looking forward to the next 25 years again.
I guess that means I should start back in December 2023 when I had a routine annual check with my cardiologist while I was on a two-week holiday break in Seattle. The news was that I was back in A-Fib and after two cardioversions and two ablations in the past four years, the next step was a pacemaker. My two-week break extended to four and a half months!
January 4, I was in the hospital to have a Micra pacemaker installed in the right ventricle. On the 26th, I was back in for the ablation that would start the pacemaker actually working. A month later, I was back to have a Watchman (Left Atrial Appendage Closure) installed, but they found a clot and couldn’t proceed. After three weeks of extra strong blood-thinners, I was back in for the Watchman installation and a check to see that all the equipment had been installed correctly and was functioning. And finally, on March 20th, my cardiologist pronounced me good to go and my four month, two-week vacation came to an end.
I would be seriously remiss if I did not mention that my ex-wife and my step-husband hosted and cared for me the entire four months! When you hear me refer to her as Treasure in my travel books (Wonders of my World), I mean exactly that.
Well, I finally returned to Las Vegas and had a nice visit from a younger woman I’d known for a few years. We decided to see if we could tolerate each other long enough to possibly go on a cruise together. Sadly, the answer was negative. I have come to understand that when a woman says she “likes older men,” she doesn’t mean that old. And there was just too much drama for my old heart to take. Nice woman, but ten days was all we needed.
I’d been having a good time walking around without panting and wheezing for a change, so I decided to drive back up to Seattle for a month and just enjoy the trip. I stopped for a few days of theatre at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, a few days to visit my friend Angus in Portland (along with his various stripper friends), and then on up to Seattle. I finally decided I was never going to pull my trailer up the long road to Alaska, so I booked an 8-day cruise the last week of July.
It was great! If you’ve considered going on a cruise but didn’t want to travel alone, don’t let that stop you! I found a deal on a solo traveler room and discovered the ship organized dinners and events for solo travelers. I met some great people and we’re even planning a reunion in March. I always had a lovely companion when I wanted one, with no other expectations or drama. Great fun!
Then I had a long and leisurely trip south along the Pacific Coast until it was time to cut east to get to Las Vegas.
I would be remiss not to mention in my year in review the appearance of a delightful young woman named Ashley. I met her in the spring when I returned to Las Vegas and visited my favorite gentlemen’s club. It wasn’t our first encounter. She was enthusiastic about my writing and wanted me to write a story that included her. In order to accomplish that, I needed to know a lot about her—both mentally and physically. While I was gone for the summer, we corresponded a bit.
When I returned in September, she was no longer working at the club, but wanted to continue our relationship independently. Nice! You might recall that in the Wonders of My World series, I talked about a stripper named Alice who became my muse as I traveled around the country and around the world. We parted ways a long time ago. It turned out Ashley has become my new muse.
She needed to move her six cats to her new apartment and my truck was big enough to fit all six cat carriers, the feed and water dispensers, and me in. So, I took them all to the new apartment. Ashley doesn’t have a car, so when I’m headed someplace interesting, like the grocery store, I text and ask if she’d like to go along. Usually, the response is yes. There is an occasional morning conversation that ends with us going out for breakfast as I listen to the sometimes unbelievable life of a young woman ‘in the industry.’ We’ll go together to the AVN Expo in Las Vegas the third weekend of January.
And she continues to be available as my model, which I’ve created into a couple of characters in my new Sisyphus novel. It takes more than one character to fit Ashley into because like many people in the industry (myself included) she has multiple professional identities. I have to make sure who I’m talking to when we meet. I even have her listed under two different names and numbers in my contacts!
But one thing is certain: No matter what kind of mood either of us is in when we get together, we both end up in a better mood by the time we part. I guess at 75, it’s not a bad thing to feel younger for a time.
Next Sunday is the first Sunday of 2025. It’s the dawning of a new age and a new era. Who knows what it will bring? May you all have the holiday everyone deserves, and the New Year you voted for!
This is number ninety-two in the blog series, “My Life in Erotica.” I encourage you to join my Patreon community to support my writing.
“YOU MUST BE incredibly organized. I’ll bet there isn’t anything out of place in your entire house!” said a potential girlfriend, before she’d ever seen my house. I’d just told her about the various writing projects I have underway and the work I have to do on each of them.
Ah! What part of the myth to shatter first?
Fact: I only invite guests into my little trailer on the day the cleaners have been there, or the day after.
Typically, I eat off paper plates and ‘cook’ in the microwave. I insist on eating with real stainless flatware, though. So, when I finish a meal, the plate goes in the garbage and the fork or other utensils get dropped through a slot in the sink cover. When I run out of forks in the silverware drawer, I open up the cover on the sink and wash whatever is in it. About once a week.
When I run out of underwear (Just bought eight new pair. Hooray!) I take my laundry to the laundromat. It takes almost two hours to wash, dry and fold the clothes, including the most recent set of sheets from the bed. It takes five to ten business days to get the laundry put away.
My ‘office’ is the dining room table, to which I have added a rolling office chair, a 32" monitor, and a detachable keyboard and mouse. Since that pretty much occupies the surface of the table, I use the bench seats for filing my projects, storing my computer bag, and keeping pantry items there isn’t room for in the pantry. Not the big things. Those I keep in the shower.
Yeah, my home is just super organized.
But my projects have to be organized or I will quickly be overwhelmed and catatonic!
I’ll start with this blog. I sometimes get two or three weeks ahead in writing them, especially when I’m doing a series like I recently did on writing through depression and despair. It seems more often recently I manage to squeeze out an hour in an evening on which there are no basketball games I’m interested in, and start writing so I can get the post to my editor to review before I have to actually put it up on Sunday morning. But my blog posts are only about 1200 words long. I can usually get them drafted in an hour.
Let’s pick up with some of my other projects that I have going at the moment.
I finished the first draft of Soulmates (previously called Head Talkers) at the end of October. Pixel, my editor, took the story for the next few weeks and re-read it to note places where it was and wasn’t working. I added those to the email he sent me when he read it the first time. Now, I’m spending about two to three hours each day on the rewrite. I try to get a chapter rewritten each day, but there are days when I get less or more. Let’s say that I work on Soulmates between about five and bed.
The story I can’t wait to get a new title for, but that has to wait until I finish writing it, is still (at this writing) in first draft, but I think I can see the end coming as I approach 150,000 words. Then it will go into hibernation as my editor Lyndsy finishes reading and commenting on it. I’ll pick it up again for rewriting when I get the rewrite of Soulmates finished. I spend about three hours a day on this project. Let’s say I work on it between noon and dinner.
That brings me to my current editing and design project for a popular airplane thriller author who happens to be a retired pilot and a PhD in airplane safety. I’m currently in the proofreading stage of this book which the author knows takes me a while. I focus intently on what I am reading, not for the content so much as word-by-word checking for spelling, punctuation, and word usage. I spend about two hours a day on this project and when I’m finished with the proofreading, then I have to start designing the actual book, which is a fairly complex layout. I do this between breakfast and lunch.
And that brings me to the project I just finished editing and designing for a client, so I can finally bill for it. Some projects seem to take forever and since I also had to navigate the publishing process for the client and it was a complex editing challenge, this was one of those that dragged out for five months. Let’s say I worked on it in my ‘spare time.’
My day sounds pretty organized as long as I don’t care about having any other life, doesn’t it. But I actually do have a life. I enjoy watching women’s basketball, both NCAA and WNBA. My friends and I go out to a show about every two weeks. I try to see my muse at least once a week for breakfast and we text each other frequently. I try to do chair exercises for at least fifteen minutes a day, intended around noon but more likely to be remembered a few minutes before bed. I meet with a writing group once or twice a week, either live or online. And I’ve started more Netflix series that I never got around to finishing than I can even name at the moment.
Yes, there is organization to my day, but it’s what I refer to as barely organized chaos.
Why? Why do I put my 75-year-old body and spirit through this meat grinder?
That’s simple: I live on Social Security. If I had nothing but my Social Security check and my meagre IRA each month, I would be able to survive, but that’s all. Writing and editing provide a nice supplemental income, in the words of the IRS. And if I don’t continue to take on the editing and design jobs, that is a significant bit of supplemental income I’m missing.
If I don’t release a major new book every quarter, my royalty income drops significantly. I did not release a major book in Q4 of 2024, for example. My royalty income for that quarter will be 20-25% of what it was during the previous four quarters. It’s just supplemental income, but it pays for the repair on my furnace.
And if I’m not writing and posting a section of a new work in progress each week, my Sausage Grinder patrons start disappearing. The same is true of my Sneak Peek patrons if there isn’t a new book posting a chapter a week before it’s released anywhere else. Even my Library patrons get a Special Patrons Edition eBook of one of my backlist books each month! That goes into my supplemental income and helps me hitch up my trailer, put gas in my tank, and travel the country.
I need to carefully plan for my retirement from writing and editing. My supplemental income amounts to about 30% of my total income each month. I watch my few investments closely to determine exactly how many months are left for me to live. It’s not a living. It’s writing to live.
2024 was a frightening year in some respects and a very invigorating year in others. I had a medical crisis and a grand adventure. I have important people in my life. So next week, I’ll write about my 2024 in review.
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