I’ve joined FetLife, a curious experience simultaneously stimulating my interest in social dynamics and making me want to stab unwitting stuffed animals with forks. I should begin by saying that despite my intermittent screeching noises, it really is a good site and a sound premise, and hopefully it grows into something of a real community.
The stabbing, you ask? Ah yes. The site is simply a little microcosm of kink, and as such occasionally prompts me to sharpen forks.
The well shot, well proportioned, laughably stereotypical picture on the home page of an older, greying man holding the throat of a young, beautiful, bound woman is thankfully no longer getting under my skin, because Maymay is a computer genius. I asked him to make sure that picture never shows when I load the home page, he fiddled a bit, wrote some code doohicky, and voila. Customized log in, Eileen-annoyance free.
And since changing my orientation from “Dominant” to “Top,” I am no longer identified under a gendered abbreviation. Unless some shockingly clever person manages to push “toppe” through as the new label-du-jour, I suppose.
And I admit, I refused to friend the three young men from New South Wales who each requested foot worship sessions with me.
But these things? They are just my little nitpicks. They are not really problems, per say. Just a friendly confirmation that the quirks of our subculture are alive and kicking. And yet, I am beginning to reconsider my membership. This may be part of a massive shift in my life which has pushed my kink awareness under in favor of work and domesticity.
The thing about a microcosm of kink is that no matter how hard I try, it’s only a matter of time before something crosses my radar that just inflames me. And no, I’m not talking about the big issues here. Oh no, I’m perfectly capable of becoming inflamed over tiny things that people less prone to passionate annoyance will shrug off, or simply fail to notice.
I joined The Kinky Intellectual’s Book Club FetLife group. And as I did so, I made a tiny internal bet with myself. “What do you bet, Eileen, that this group will go three days without mentioning Kushiel’s Dart?”
“I bet nothing. I refuse to throw perfectly good money away.”
Good thing I didn’t bet. But oh, the annoyance.
As I have previously mentioned, I have read Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel series. At the time, I was ambivalent toward them. They are not staggering works of literary genius. They are passable fantasy that occasionally wanders into “decent” territory. (Yes, you may dispute this. I have high standards. We know this by now.) I am no longer ambivalent. I feel now, toward these books, an annoyance that momentarily lingers on inflamed irrational rage.
I have had these books recommended to me on a rate of about four times a year for the past six years. I am sick of being told I should read these fucking books, so sick, in fact, that I will now sometimes, in very snippy moods, head off sentences that begin with “Have you ever read…” by interrupting, “Carey? Yes, I have.” They do not deserve this overflow of effusive praise. They are simply not that good.
The Kushiel series, along with a very few other titles that compose the core (and only) BDSM fiction reading list for those of us not inclined to get our wanks from online erotica, operate within a starvation economy that skyrockets their value far beyond anything my tastes will allow. We are so desperate for kinky material that’s been proofread and couched in narrative that we will devour, praise and pimp the passable. And since I’ve written here before about my utterly devastating erotic obsession with artistic skill, one can imagine how this makes me feel.
From here I veer off in two directions, both writerly in nature. Starvation economy of words? Duh. Create more words.
There is the little tickle in the back of my brain, the one that moans of how unfair it is that to find kink content I like I’m best off creating it myself. But that little tickle is the remenant of an indignation that has long since fizzled down; it is, after all, not unfair for me to produce content if I genuinely love producing content.
On the one hand, there is that distinct temptation: “Eileen, how about you write a nice juicy kink/fantasy crossover novel? You’d be rich! Rich, I say!” I’ve gone far enough down this road to have sketched a setting, a plot, some subplots. I’ve done character profiles, even toyed with the first few pages. I have, essentially, a half-decent, passable working novel idea. But I’m still feeling my way through fantasy genre writing, and I don’t know how I feel about writing passable novels.
And then, there is the hand that wants to write the real story down. The story that’s on this blog and all the natty details in between, all blended up in a realist half-fiction that’s more worth the time it would take to write and the time it would take to read. I want to write kink and love the way Stephen Elliot writes kink and love. I want to squash Mistress Nan off the market and completely redefine the “real experiences of a dominant woman” in all their intricate, clumsy, laughable, joyful ache and glory.
A telling insight on my ego: I desire to possess skill and desire to possess the skilled. I keep falling flat on my face for artists and writers, the body as a metaphor for the intellect, the intellect as a metaphor for the body. Or, to put it bluntly: the better I craft, the hotter I get. The better you craft, the hotter you get.
17 Comments
Not on Fetlife yet. Come to Twitter. Lots of your pals there. And there are lots of people from Sex 2.0 and the blogosphere who are on there. Susan Mernit says it’s the internet equivalent of the water cooler. xxx
I’ve never read any of the Kushiel series, despite having them recommended several times. I got as far as locating one at the library, opening it, and reading a page at random. It triggered every single one of my SCHLOCK FANTASY-BY-NUMBERS buttons within about two paragraphs, so I ditched it again.
(and I usually have a reasonably high tolerance for schlock fantasy-by-numbers; unfortunately the one thing that I absolutely can’t bear is faux-archaic language, & IIRC Kushiel’s Whatever had that in spades.)
Does writing the passable novel first not make the good novel likely to be better?
Oh really? What does this make me? :D
I’m such a jaded snob about my fantasy at this point that I have no clue what’s good and kinky, if anything. Is there any you would recommend?
And, is FetLife worth trying? Because your review makes me think it’s like most other discussion forums out there, and will make me lose my damn mind in a matter of minutes.
–B
I went to fetlife, because I thought it would be a nice change from myspace. Things went well. I deleted my myspace. Then, I got two emails in rapid succession from men who wanted to be my ’slave’. First of all, no. No way. Not even a hello? Give me a break. Secondly, what am I supposed to do with a slave who lives in Florida, anyway? That would be rather useless, unless I sent them over to Jordin’s house to help with the baby.
BTW, I just had the Kushiel novels suggested to me for the first time, by a blog reader. (he also suggested several bands that make me shudder. HIM? What, am I 15 again?)
I guess I’ll send them the way of the Rice. (Speaking of, anyone want a copy of the Beauty Trilogy?)
I think you should write your real story down. It’d be a hell of a lot more interesting than the fiction I’ve read. Do it. Why not?
Hi. I just saw a link come to my site from this site. I don’t actually check my log that often, or sometimes I check it all the time and then weeks or months not at all, but there I was, and there was the link, and I was avoiding stuff and surfed over here. Anyway, thank you very much for linking to me, and for the compliment. I really like what you’re writing here.
stephen
I refuse to read Kushiel’s Dart. :/ The Bad Genre Fiction trappings got to me too fast the first time I tried.
My go-to book for sexy reading is Sarah Waters’ Tipping the Velvet. It’s not primarily erotic fiction, nor would I call it kink-focused (even if the main character -does- serve as a sex slave and do a living-sculpture kind of thing at one point) but it does have a few good, hot scenes of the androgynous-Victorian-lesbian variety.
How much am I out of the fetish scene when I tell you that I have never heard of Carey or her Kushiel series? Not until you mention it, just now.
The problems you mention apply to simply everything that has been written in this modern era of “literature.” I am directed to some writer, whom I then read, finding only that I want to fix their grammar and put out an abridged version of what’s left that would run, say, 1/3 the size of the original. I’m bored with the novelization of description. I want something to happen.
I’ve heard it said you should never write for anyone other than yourself. I heartily disagree. I believe you should write for someone exactly like yourself who doesn’t happen to have the ability to write.
Do it, Eileen. If it comes out anything like the material you included in your post about “the rotation,” I’m sure it will be kick-ass.
I’ve long had the fantasy of writing my own SM/kink/literary novel, semi-autobiographical, based on the last six or so years of my life, from coming into the scene to ending up a married, poly, submissive woman. (Yup, definitely not the same book you’d write - but the same idea. A female Stephen Elliot is something I’ve often thought about.) I certainly think my writing skill is above a lot of the erotica I’ve read, but I’d love to make it mainstream as well. I would want to make people think and entertain them more than I’d want to turn them on, so we’re not talking porn here. Not sure why I haven’t done it, except that I’ve barely turned out a short story in the last few years, so a novel is just hugely daunting.
I would love to read your story. Your real, non-fantasized, true story, written in the voice I’ve come to know and love on this blog. When you can, and if you want to - do it.
Do you know how hard I am biting my tongue (fingers?) trying to avoid my instinct to begin discussing all the other SF/kink/fantasy novels I have read in this niche? Wow.
But yeah, almost all of them are terrible. Do you mind being asked for your opinion of books or just being recommended books you weren’t totally taken with, over and over and over again?
Tipping the Velvet is awesome. The TV series they made out of it (was it for the BBC?) isn’t bad either.
I read half the first Kushiel in 8th grade and have resisted suggestions that I finish it since then.
Eileen, if you wrote your own book that would be the most amazing thing ever.
Viviane -
I’ve been resisting Twitter for a very, very long time, but May seems to think it might suit me better than blogging, so we’ll see. :)
Juliet-
Yes! you’re right, of course. Writing the first would make the second better. That is, if it doesn’t mire my brain so deep in fantasy that I can’t pull it back out again.
I do not have a high tolerance for fantasy-by-numbers (great phrase), but I can stomach archaic language, and I read quickly. I put the books down in about three days, which was about as much time as they really deserved, in the end.
B-
Good kinky fantasy? Sorry, B, you’re going to have to go to someone else for that one. Sounds like my other commenters have some opinions, but I’ve honestly never read a good fantasy kink novel.
As for Fetlife, I do think it’s worth trying. I didn’t really intend for this to be a “review” of the site. Like most social networking sites, Fetlife is easy to join and then either take advantage of or simply ignore, however it suits you.
Stephen!
All hail the power of the Internet. I pay you a compliment behind your back and you show up and make me pay it to your face. Thanks for visiting :).
Bea-
My go-to book for sexy reading is Sarah Waters’ Tipping the Velvet.
I’ll check it out. Although I don’t really need to add more reading material to my life, I’ll admit.
Alexis-
Ideas like this are why I love having you around. Thank you.
Sue-
I would love to read a story you’d written with that idea in mind! As for novels and short stories…I usually end up writing related short stories and then discovering later on that I’ve created novel material.
Jade-
I don’t mind being asked for my opinion, but as you can see from my chat with Belesarius above, my responses are usually less than fulfilling.
A ridiculously sassy boything.
I sass at thee! :D
I have not heard of the Kushiel series in a BDSM context. But after seeing it mentioned on io9’s alternate history guide I was intrigued. But it seemed a bit trashy, so I decided against it.
Also, just joined FetLife. Seems like a kinky, cooler version of Facebook. We shall see how much time I spend on it (probably not a lot).
Eileen, please, please, write a book! As some writing teacher I had once said, the only way to write a good book is to have the courage to write a bad one first.
Bea, you have good taste. I loved Tipping the Velvet.
Heh. I read the first Kushiel book because it was recommended to me specifically for kink/spirituality intersection. And I went through it, and was glad to have read it, and said, “… there are more of them? WHY? It’s done now.”
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