Reaching Out from a Mind as Dirty as All Outdoors
If you get lucky enough, I might post adult-only material from time to time, so be 18 or over, or please be elsewhere.
I'll be discussing erotica here, the writing of it and the people who write it, as well as what we've written. I find all these aspects stimulating, but if any of them bore you, feel free to skim. You never know what you might miss, though.
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Sweet of My Heart: Bog Tour for Ble v. 3 with Anna Watson
Anna Watson has an amazing ability to find places to go with her stories that I never would have thought of, with characters unlike any I’ve seen before, and she makes it all work beautifully on multiple levels. This time she takes us to the Harlem of 1931 in “Sweet of My Heart,” where the Peace Mission of Father Divine offered free meals where even a dance hall girl could be fed. Here in her blog post she shares her process and reasons for writing this story, as well as describing a reading we did together in Provincetown in October. Yes, those cookies were tasty!
Now for Anna’s post:
One of the highlights of the year for me is always Women’s Week in Provincetown, and this year it was made even more wonderful by the BLE reading at Womencrafts, one of the oldest feminist bookstores in the US. It was a joy to read with our redoubtable editor, Sacchi Green, as well as fellow BLE contributors, Raven Sky, Josette Murray and Priscilla Scott Rhoades. We had a lovely audience, who certainly enjoyed the pussy-shaped shortbread cookies baked by Jody, a local dyke baker and artist extraordinaire. I love writing smut, and I especially love connecting directly with folx through readings like this.
As I say in my bio for BLE 3, I was raised to think that only fools believe in God, and I was taught to look at religion as a quaint curiosity. So of course, I’ve always been fascinated by religions, the more extreme the better. I just want to know more, more about those fools who go whole hog. Turns out they aren’t fools any more than those who subscribe to the atheism I was raised with, and what a relief that is!
Charmed Soul, for example, the butch love object in my story, is far from a fool. She knows she needs love; she knows she won’t get it from her family or from society in general, but she gets a lot of it from Father Divine and his followers – well, just as long as she does what she’s told. Enter Mimi LaRouge, a half-French femme working at a dance hall and very much in need of nourishment. All kinds of nourishment!
The idea for this story came to me as I was reading the fascinating biography of Father Divine, a real person, who has living followers still today, though he is long dead. The book, Father Divine: Holy Husband by Sara Harris with the assistance of Harriet Crittenden, was published in 1953, and gives a vivid picture of Father Divine’s world. As much as I enjoyed the book, I also am grateful that it sparked my imagination and gave me Charmed Soul and Mimi. Here, Mimi witnesses the followers of Father Divine vibrating, an indication of their passion and devotion.
From “Sweet of My Heart” by Anna Watson, BLE 3
Some agitation is growing at the table of Sweets. They have been singing one of their quirky, many-versed songs, the one about seeing his dear little feet and hands and the rest of it. The object of their worship pays no heed at all. Then, with no warning whatsoever, the Sweet to his right contracts upon herself, as if gut shot. She lets loose a great whoop and seems overcome with the fidgets. The flailing movements of her limbs propel her backwards in her chair, which tips over into the singing mass of Divinites behind her. She tumbles onto the floor where I can no longer see her, but I can hear her breathy yelps. Now the effect spreads, and one after another, the Sweets careen full tilt into ecstasy. They quiver, they teeter-totter. They rise or fall from their chairs, they stagger and convulse. Across from me, Nancy begins to breathe heavily and I reach over to squeeze her hand. “Oh, see their devotion!” she sighs, calming. It certainly is what Maman would call un spectacle. Unbound bosoms jiggle and sway, hips thrust forward and back, eyes are wide and staring, mouths mumble, drool, and call upon Father Divine. The God himself seems to take all this as his due, and calmly continues to wield his fork and knife.
My gaze keeps returning to Charmed Soul. I want to see how her devotion will possess her. I want to see her hair come loose from its stern braid and her slim torso dance. I want to see her feeling this passion. I want to see her control disturbed. But she alone among her sisters remains calm. Sad, defeated, she looks the very picture of a child left lonely on a playground where other, swifter children have abandoned her. Is her love of God not strong enough? The poor darling! As I am thinking this, she raises her head and our eyes meet.
Here’s the complete Blog Tour schedule, with all the links currently available:
The Night Shift
R. D. Miller
Sweet of My Heart
Emily L. Byrne
Yin and Yang
Where There’s Smoke
Fuck Me Like a Canadian