Well now, I touched a nerve. My recent blog about death caused twice as many comments as any of my previous forty or so blogs. Clearly, I have found what turns people on, or off, and I’m wondering if I can weave a new novel around the subject. How about The Juxtaposition of Death, Life and Erotica as a title?
As a postscript to my Thinking about Death, here are a few extra observations based partly on the comments and partly on just me thinking about things.
First, my new novel: the one that is password-protected on my laptop. Not any more. The novel is published and available on Smashwords and in the Kindle Store in either MOBI or EPUB format. All you need to know is the title and my pseudonym! Go search my friends, go search.
Incidentally, some of you referred to my new novel as a bonk buster. I protest. Officially, the novel is classed as “general fiction with an erotic element”. I like to think the erotic passages are more literary than sensational and I discovered it is very hard writing erotic descriptions in a way that doesn’t come across as juvenile and yet conveys an element of sexual excitement. My admiration for John Cleland, Vladimir Nabokov, D H Lawrence, Anaïs Nin, Henry Miller, even Bret Easton Ellis has gone up a considerable notch. Note: E L James is not included in this list.
I also discovered that my reference to Rosebud as a dying-breath password was not understood by those I questioned. Rosebud is probably the most famous dying-breath word in the world. It came from the 1941 film Citizen Kane. Remember Xanadu? Charles Foster Kane? Google Citizen Kane and follow the Wikipedia link for a full explanation. Or just follow this link: Plot, first paragraph.
As for my birthday, that came and went with no hiccups or life-and-death interruptions. The wine, a 2013 Barolo, was excellent and I received two books: Sandra Newman and Howard Mittelmark’s amusing book, How Not To Write A Novel and Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing. I’ve read the first already and picked up a couple of points that applied to my new novel (no, not avoid erotica advice—surprisingly, that is not in the book) and I’ve started the second. Bradbury was one of my younger-life heroes. I devoured his science-fiction novels: The Illustrated Man, Martian Chronicles, Fahrenheit 541, Something Wicked this Way Comes, and many others. I am looking forward to reading his Zen book. I need more Zen.
That’s it. I’m off to transfer my consciousness into an android (thanks Mary) and stop the Chinese from feeding antibiotics to their cows (thanks Paul).
As they say very forcefully in California: now, you have a great day!