Beating Off Bob's BLOG

This is sort of a list of things I thought about along the way as I wrote and posted stories.  Some of it is supposed to be a dialogue, between the readers and myself.  Of course, that means you have to write to me and say something.  You can do that at:  beatingoffbob@yahoo.com  

Of course, some of it doesn't call for dialogue.  Sometimes I just rant and rave.  Anyway, if you ever wondered what goes through the mind of a smut author ... here's your chance to take a peek.  I'll add entries as I think of things worth saying.  These go all the way back to the very beginning ... when all I wrote was short stroke stories.  The fact that I now write longer stories is a direct result of reader feedback.  Your comments DO have an impact.
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14 June 2007 - Dear Kids,

I got back from my sabbatical and found an email from a woman who, by accident, discovered that her seventeen year old daughter had a whole slew of my stories saved on her computer.  She expressed some concern that her daugher seemed to be interested in young girls who were impregnated by older men.

I can understand that - the mother's concern, I mean.  Not only that, I can empathize with her.

So, since I now know that people are reading my stories, who shouldn't be reading my stories, this blog entry is for all of you kids out there.

First off, don't frown like that.  You ARE a kid.  You may feel all grown up, but you're not.  You may WANT to be all grown up, but you're not.  You may THINK you have it all figured out, but you don't.

How do I know?

Easy.  Most of us grown ups haven't figured it out yet either.  Why do you think there is so much divorce out there?  You think it's because the adults are just too picky?

The fact is that complex relationships are difficult, and frought with danger.  Just look at your own best friend.  Do things always go perfect for the two of you?  Of course not.  In fact, you've probably had more than one "best friend".  And you're not fucking your best friend.  At least I hope you're not.

And don't yell at me for using bad words.  You're the ones who decided you were old enough to access an adult site, and I know you're familiar with the language.

What you're NOT familiar with are the complexities of human interaction on the level where sex takes place.

How do I know?

Easy.  Most adults aren't there yet either.

So, you say ... "How am I supposed to figure this out, if I can't explore and experience things?"

Here's a tip for you:   Talk to your parents.

That's right.  I mean those (hopefully) two, (probably) clueless, adults who strained and sweated and anguished over you as you came to the conclusion that the world revolves around you, instead of the sun.  I'm talking about the people who sacrificed what they wanted, for YOUR benefit.  Hopefully I'm talking about the people in your life who HAVEN'T abused you, and are scared to death that something bad will happen to you.  They've been living with that fear for years, and they know they'll be living with that fear for the rest of their lives.

"But they're clueless!" you gasp.  "Nobody talks to their parents about ... sex!"

Wait!    Think about that!   Could we have possibly stumbled upon a key factor as to why nobody ever seems to be able to figure out this sex thing?   Hmmmm.

What would the world be like if parents educated their own kids about the pitfalls of relationships?  What if, as they filed their divorce papers, they explained to the kids exactly what went wrong ... how the love died ... how maybe it wasn't there in the first place ... how, quite possibly, it was all about sex when they started things up, and maybe not about love at all!

What if a girl was actually able to go to her mother and say "Mom, I'm really interested in this sex thing, and I think I want to try it.  You've done that a lot.  Got any pointers for me?"

*sigh*

No, that wouldn't work.  There's no way a mother might actually be able to help her daughter understand the feelings inside of her, and how to deal with them.  After all, Mom only had sex that one time ... right?  That's why you're there.   But she and Dad don't actually DO the bump ugly any more.  Ick!

Look, kids.  You're not stupid, no matter what the test results from No Child Left Behind say.  You know full well that your parents have taught you a hell of a lot about life already.  You watched them, and you saw them make mistakes.  They made a lot more of them long before you were born, and most of them learned from those mistakes.   If you don't talk to them about sex, you're wasting a very precious resource that could make your life a GREAT deal easier in the years to come.

"But they won't talk to me about sex!" you say.

You're probably right.  Not at first, anyway.   But I guarantee you that if you walk up to Mom and say something like "I really like Bobby, and I'm thinking he should be the guy to get my cherry," you'll get a dialogue going.  

Yes, there will be some screaming and yelling at first.  Yes, the law will be laid down, initially.  But, if you approach it like the adult you think you are, and demand that they both teach you about the mistakes they made in their love lives ... ARE making in their love lives ... eventually you'll wear them down.  Once the dialogue actually gets past the "I'm your Mother - THAT's why" stage, you might find out things that will save YOU from having to file all that nasty divorce paperwork some day in the future.

Don't try to learn about sexual relationships from stories by people like me.  We're dreaming.  It's all fantasy, for us.  And the ones who swear it's all true, and that everybody else should do what they did too are just those of us who are a brick shy of a load.

But you're not living a fantasy.  Your dreams should be of the future, not simply what you're feeling right now.  Your life is real, and you can fuck it up royally if you make the wrong decisions right now. 

How do I know?

Just look around.  How many fucked up adults do you see around you?

Talk to them.  Find out what happened, so it won't happen to you.

One more thing.  For those girls out there who think a baby will solve a problem, or be "cool" ... those aren't good reasons to have a baby, OK?  Life is precious, and a baby deserves a committed mother AND father, who will raise that child in an atmosphere of love and respect.  Your Uncle isn't the best man to do that with.  Neither is your brother.  Your father's already taken, and if he's not, there's a reason.  When you actually find that man, and fall in love with him, and are in a stable, committed relationship, then you can fantasize whatever you like as you go about creating new, precious life.  Don't waste that on some guy who's just trying to follow his biological urge to scatter his seed around.

Now that you've read this, I don't expect to see you back again until after you're an adult.   If you're wondering when that is ... you'll know when you get there because that's when you begin to realize how clueless you actually are.


And, for any parents out there who decided to see what I was telling your kids:

Talk to them.  Tell them about your mistakes, and what you learned from them.  Sex is NOT a taboo subject for YOU to talk about with your children.  Help them work through what they're feeling.  Help them differentiate between fantasy and reality. 

I shouldn't have to tell you not to "help" them like happens in my fantasies.  But I will, because your parents didn't talk to you about sex either, and maybe you're still a little confused.

Bob

28 May 07 - My yearly sabbatical

Those of you at ASSTR aren't aware of this, like those at some other sites are, because I haven't been posting here for more than a year.   About every June, I take a sabbatical from writing to do other, more important things.  It doesn't matter what they are.  Suffice it to say that I'll be back, in July, with another story or two.  Just because I'm gone doing something worthwhile, for a change, doesn't mean I stop thinking.

See you in late June, or July.
Bob



25 May 07 - I seem to be saying "Thanks!" a lot more these days.  This time it's for the overwhelming response to "The Last Wish Blues" and "Bobby's Good Deeds".  

Both of these stories were the result of comments made by readers, who wrote to me about other stories, and made suggestions in the process.  Lots of people have good ideas, even though, to tell the truth, neither of the folks who suggested the plot ideas for these two stories would recognize their idea, once it was in print.  That's because my mind (and my muse) process things a little differently.

This is not to say I take every suggestion.  I have to "feel" right about a suggestion, which is something even I don't understand completely.

But, thanks are in order anyway, both to those who sparked the ideas in my mind, and for those of you who were so kind about the results.

As usual, thanks for reading too.
Bob


7 Apr 07 - Thanks, once again!

My thanks to the readers who treated Flossie's Revenge with the delicacy and respect I thought it deserved.  I had a hard time deciding whether or not to post this story, but your response warmed the cockles of my kinky little heart.

Believe it or not, I didn't get one single piece of hate mail. Of course, I didn't get a lot of mail at all.  I think the things this story dealt with are difficult for many of us to approach and examine, especially about our own reactions to those around us who are different than we are.

Anyway, thanks a bunch, folks.  Your response is greatly appreciated.

Thanks for reading.
Bob
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7 Mar 07 - Notes on Flossie's Revenge

Several of you have asked what I've been up to for the last month or so, since I haven't posted anything.

Here's the deal.  I've been working on "Flossie's Revenge", which is a story that departs, in some ways, from my usual fare, but in other ways is a result of what you, the readers, have told me you want.

It departs from my usual fare in these ways:

It is longer - MUCH longer than my usual stories.

Interracial sex is pivotal to the tale.  While I have included that in stories before this, it was only incidental to the plot.

I have used patently offensive speech, of the sort I usually avoid at almost all costs.  Historical accuracy required it.

It is similar to my previous offerings and addresses reader's comments in the following ways:

It is a tale of love, and how love can appear in the most unlikely circumstances.

It is the "whole" story.  Those of you who repeatedly chastise me for stopping too soon have been heard.  On the other hand ... be careful what you wish for.

It required extensive setup to put the characters in a position for relationships to develop in a way that is credible.   That means it is a very slow story for the first ten or so of forty-four chapters.  It requires you to almost live the life of the characters, so that you will understand why their opinions and biases change.

I step on my soapbox relatively frequently.  At the same time, I have tried to present views from varying directions, and any diatribe included is there primarily to support or illuminate the plot.

As, with most of my characters, I have forged the participants in this story on the anvils of love, hate, fear, doubt, joy, desire, and a host of other completely normal emotional states that we all enjoy or endure.   The goal is to give them true freedom to live life to the fullest, and make available as many options to them as possible to move forward toward as much happiness as they can find.

And, of course, there's lots and lots of hot sex.

I don't usually explain a story before I post it, so by doing so now, I suppose it is also a departure from my norm.   I do so because I want you to take the plunge ... to read something you might otherwise have decided to pass on, based on codes alone.  This story includes factual historical descriptions that are disturbing and which will not be easy to read, because our grandmothers and grandfathers lived and acted out those disturbing scenes.  At the same time, we have moved forward from that disturbing time in our history, and that should be celebrated.

Not all will agree.  Racism still abounds, and I may get some hate mail as a result of this story.  Before you fire off some of that hate mail, though, I have to tell you not to waste your time.   You have as much chance of "fixing" me, as I do of "fixing" you.

In the end, though, it is not acutally the purpose of this story to change anybody's mind about racism. I do not delude myself into thinking that a simple story can affect that kind of change.   It's just a story.  As usual, I wanted to see if I could take an unlikely scenario, and see if I could make it work in a way that readers would embrace as "possible".  It's a fairy tale, in the sense that money isn't the problem, and happily ever after is the end result.  

It is for that reason that I invite you to read it.  It's just a story, with ups and downs, and love and hate, just like our normal lives, except that, of course, it has a happy ending.   

At least I thought so.

Thanks for reading
Bob
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3 Feb 07 - What the readers want ... the readers get?

It is not unusual for me to get mail, wherein a reader says I did not go far enough in a given story ... left things hanging ... didn't finish it.   

Of course everybody has different ideas about that.  In my case, I like to leave an opening for a sequel, later on down the line, after I've used up all my ideas and have writer's block.   And, I figure it gives the reader a chance to fill in the blanks with his or her own imagination.  Readers don't have any control over the story, so at least they should get to decide how things worked out in the "future".

That said, in deference to all of you out there who would like to see a proper ending sometime, I have appointed Gene, one of my favorite readers, to act as your proxy.   After I posted the last chapter of "The Honeymoon Blues", Gene sent me the rough draft of an ending he'd like to have seen.   I have taken the liberty of expanding a tad on his rough draft, but what follows is basically what Gene would like to have read, maybe as an epilogue.    

If you haven't read the story ... "BAD READER!!"  No, what I actually meant to say is that if you haven't read the story, this won't make any sense.  So here's Gene's (and by proxy your) ending.

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Arianna Phips sat back in the coach seat of the airplane and coughed up three-fifty for a whiskey sour.  If she couldn't smoke on the damned airplane, she intended to get good and drunk.

When her only daughter had disappeared off the face of the earth, not coming home from her honeymoon in the Bahamas, she had made inquiries.   Her new in-laws were anything but helpful, insisting they didn't know where either their son, or her daughter were.  She'd had to get ugly to get the truth out of them.

She'd laughed at first.   Like mother ... like daughter.  Arianna had never chosen good men.  Her first was a stick in the mud, and the ones since had all gotten fat, or cheap, or worn out or something.

After almost a year of getting nowhere, it finally occurred to Arianna to ask the Post Office where they were forwarding Julie's mail.  Being the Government, and being helpful, they gave it to her, telling her she was lucky to have asked, since, in about a week, the year of forwarding would be up and the card would be destroyed.  The address they gave her was in the Bahamas.

Leave it to Julie to find husband number two while she was on her honeymoon.   Arianna had to admire that.

It had taken her another six months to get together enough money to buy a ticket down there.  She only bought a one way ticket.  It was time for Julie to take care of her dear old mother, and the Bahamas was the perfect place for her to do that, as far as Arianna was concerned.

Finally the plane landed, and a very drunk Arianna collected her luggage and wobbled out to a cab.  As the cabby put her suitcase in the trunk, she squeezed his ass.  She'd never had black dick before.  No time like a nice trip to the Bahamas to find out what that was like.

"Paradise Inn" she slurred to the driver as he pushed her into the back of the cab.

"Pardon, Miss?" he said.   "I don't know of no place called Paradise Inn."

"Well it's Paradise something or other," she snarled.  "How many paradises can you have on this island?"

"Ahhhh," he sighed.  "You mean Paradise Cove, yes?"

"Sounds good to me," said Arianna.  You got any booze in this cab?"

"No ma'am," said the cabby, hoping she wouldn't puke on the seat.

Since she now couldn't drink, Arianna figured it was time to smoke.  She chain smoked two cigarettes while the cabby rolled down his own window, and then reached over to roll down the other one in the front.   He coughed.

"You should see a doctor about that cough," Arianna cackled.

The ride wasn't long, and the cab pulled up in front of a small building that had a sign over the door.  It said "Welcome to Paradise Cove".

Arianna crawled out of the cab.  She waved to the cabby.

"Hold on to that stuff for a minute.  My daughter is here.  I'll probably stay with her.  Lemme find out if somebody knows where she is."

She entered the front door, and there, right in front of her, behind the desk, was Julie.  It was obvious it was Julie, even though her belly bulged like she was six months pregnant.  There was a baby outside her belly too, perched on her hip in that way that makes it clear it's that woman's baby.

"JULIE!" shrieked her mother.  "BABY! ... SURPRISE!"

Julie's face fell.

"What are you doing here, mother?"

"I came to see my BABY," crooned Arianna.  "They said you got married to number two already.  I'm so proud of you!  And I have GRANDBABIES TOO!" she squealed.

"You can't be here, mother," said Julie, looking like she was suffering some panic.

"Course I can!" mumbled Arianna.  "I have to meet the lucky groom!"

"No, mother, you do not." said Julie firmly.

Just then a man walked in the door behind Julie.  The baby on her hip smiled and said "DA DA".

"Julie?  Have you seen that roll of ..."

"You can't come in here now, JEFF!" gasped Julie, turning around and pushing at him to make him go back out the door.  "My MOTHER just walked in the door, JEFF, and this is not a good time JEFF!"

"What?" asked the man.

"DA DA" gurgled the baby.

"That voice sounds familiar!" said Arianna, trying to peer past her daughter.  A man's face appeared over Julie's shoulder.

"NO!" shouted Julie.

"BOB?" screamed Arianna.

"DAAAA DAAAA" screamed the baby, crying and reaching for its father.

Julie slumped, gave the baby to Bob, and turned around.

"All right.  Now you know.  I married my father.  I had his baby and I'm going to have another one.  I'm not going to let you mess up my life, mother."

It started as a sort of a twinge.   Maybe a catch, like a knuckle feels just before you pop it.  Whatever it was it was damned uncomfortable, and Arianna wished it would go away.  She had to deal with her fucking first husband, and figure out some way to get him away from her fucking pregnant daughter, because she was not ABOUT to put up with this shit!

The twinge turned into an honest pain, and then it suddenly felt as if a semi had parked on her chest.  Her hand slapped her flabby breasts, trying to wipe the weight off her chest, but it didn't work.  Now her left arm was killing her, and her knees didn't seem to be working right either.  It wasn't until the last few seconds, when her eyesight zoomed into a small spot that was full of Bob's face, that she realized she was having a heart attack.  She tried to ask Bob to help her, but she couldn't draw a breath to do it.

They called the ambulance, and it got there pretty quickly.  Bob tried to do CPR, but it didn't do any good.  The ambulance attendant shook his head.

"She's gone, mon."

"Tell them I'll take care of the arrangements." said Bob.  "I need to see ;to my family and then I'll come down and fill out all the paperwork."

"She one of your guests?" asked the man.

"No, she just stopped here to ask some questions." said Bob.

In the end, Julie did end up taking care of her mother.  She bought her a pine casket to take her long nap in.

The End

Thanks for reading.
Bob
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23 Jan 07 - What in the WORLD is he doing?

For those of you who are wondering just what in the world has happened to good old B.O.B, this blog entry is designed to explain it.

After a period of rest (medical problems that wouldn't be put off any longer) during the holidays ... actually, even before then to some degree ... I got this wild hair to try something different.

Now, "different" is, in reality, a matter of degree.  It's sort of in the eye of the beholder.  The TV program "CIS" is, for most people, something very different, or was when it first started airing.  But for real law enforcement personnel, who have done that sort of thing in real life for years and years, it's just business as usual.  Nothing different about it, excepting, of course, the poetic license the writers use to make all those dazzling science things look like they can be done in an hour, and that the same guy who collects the evidence actually does the examinations on it.  That's pure horse pucky.  It makes for good TV, but it's horse pucky.  Trust me on that.

But I digress.

I was doing some reading, and happened upon about a zillion stories in the general category of "cheating".  I have to confess here that, once in a while, I get a little tittilated with a cheating story.  But, as I read one, after another, I realized that they were all the same, written in about three general categories.  

Some of them have an out-of-control woman, who can't help but cheat.  Some have a husband who, for some reason, can't get off unless some other guy is doing his wife.  Then there are the ones, commonly called "wimp husband" stories, where the husband not only has to let his wife cheat, he has to be throughly debased in the process.  I guess you could also argue there's a fourth style, in which a huge guy, commonly black, with a huge dick, ruins the woman so that she can't possibly enjoy her husband any more.

While reading these stories, I came to the conclusion that, depending on which of the three or four scenarios you are reading, they were all pretty much the same.

Then it occured to me that, way back when, before I was an author, when I was reading pregnancy stories, I noticed the same thing.  That, in fact, is why I started writing pregnancy stories.  I wanted to read something different.  Same genre, but with a different feel.

So I said to myself:  "Self, there should be a way to write a cheating story in which nobody gets hurt or debased, and the woman ends up still loving her husband, and the husband still feels like a real man."

I said it out loud.  My wife gave me the oddest look.

Anyway, "The Masters Project" was the result.   Then, during the break I took to visit many beautiful hospitals and doctor's offices, I thought up "Be Careful What You Ask For", which is clothed in 'the usual story', but which is actually a satire of the whole genre.   

Well, OK, it was SUPPOSED to be a satire.  I got a lot of mail from people who took it seriously and informed me that cheating is a horrible thing to do and wrecks lives.

I'm glad they wrote to me about that.  I hadn't thought of that before.  

Um ... that was satire too ... OK?

Now, with my latest story, called "The Honeymoon Blues" I think I may have finally gotten this cheating thing out of my system.  

That said, The Honeymoon Blues is not actually a story about cheating.   People will THINK it is about cheating, but it isn't.  If I told you why, it would ruin the story.  If you read this blog after I've posted the whole story, and you've already read it, you're nodding your head right now, saying "He's right ... it wasn't about cheating."

By the way ... don't say that out loud when your wife is within hearing range.

Oops!  Too late?  Don't worry.  She'll get over it.

The point is that my writing (or your writing or his/her writing) writing should be different, if at all possible, from what everybody else is writing.  Since there are a finite number of ideas around in the smut industry, and since all of them have been written about literally countless times, what challenges me is to take an idea, knowing it isn't original, and then give it an original twist of some kind.   Freshen it up.  Kick it in the ass and make it sing.

What I want the reader to say, when done, is something along the lines of "Wow, it was an old, tired plot idea, but I like the way he handled it."   I also get a kick out of "Now THAT was worth the time it took to read it!"

So, do not despair when you find that I have posted something outside my "specialty".  All that means is that I'm exercising my brain, so that I can then use my rejuvenated brain to think up new and fresh ways to write pregnancy stories of the type you have come to expect from good old B.O.B.

As always, thanks for reading.
Bob
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11 Dec 06 - How I do Dialogue

I have received several wonderful comments about the dialogue in my stories, and several requests to know how I decide what dialogue to put into a story.

So I thought I'd share that 'phenomenon' with you.

There are actually three ways I do dialogue.

The first is what most of us have experienced on innumerable occasions when we are anticipating having a conversation with someone about something.  We hope they will say thus and such.   That works in almost any situation, whether it is a conversation with a lover, or a boss, or a friend, or even a stranger.  I get mail from strangers all the time, and I have definite hopes about what they'll say.

That's pretty easy to write down.  In any given situation I'm writing about, I just imagine myself to be one of the characters, and I know what I hope the other character(s) will say.

But there's more to it than that.   I have read hundreds of stories where, say, the mail man shows up at the doorstep, and the naked woman who opens the door says what the mailman hopes she'll say.  It's usually something like "Oh ... you caught me naked ... take me now!"

Thus is exposed the problem with dialogue that strictly follows the "That's what I hoped you'd say," technique.

People don't always say what we hope they'll say.

Let's leave that for a few minutes and go on to the other technique I use.

I'll call that one the "Boy, if only I'd said that," technique.

You all know what I'm talking about.  You've had a conversation.  The person either did or didn't say what you hoped they'd say.  But your own responses were less than gratifying.  As you think about it afterwards, you realize what you SHOULD have said, and grind your teeth.

As an author, that's just not a problem.  You get to say what you wish you'd said, because you have time to reflect on things, and change them during an editing session.

(Hey ... get this!  When I posted this blog entry, I thought of something I wish I'd said, and so I came back to it a couple of hours later and I'm going to say it now.  The next paragraph is actually an example of what I was talking about above.)  

In fact, one of the reasons I try to write a story completely before I start posting it is that sometimes, late in the story, a character says something, or something happens that I wish I'd have hinted at with dialogue in an earlier chapter.  If I haven't posted that chapter yet, I can always go back and insert "what I wish I'd said" right where I wish I'd said it.

See how that works?

The third way I do things comes from my history of interviews and interrogations.   Before you do an interview or interrogation, a good interviewer thinks up as many possibilities as he/she can, that go along these lines:  What if he says this ... what if she says that?   How will I respond?   

In other words, you "what if" the situation to death, make some notes, and hope you're prepared.

So, while I'm writing, I think about the situation, and what, as one of the characters, I hope another character is going to say to me.  As an author I think about what I'm going to do if that character says something else to me, and as both a character and author I think about what I'm going to do and say if the other character says "this".

Then I switch characters and do it all over again.

Simple ... right?
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1 Dec 06 - How can I be so many people?

When I decided to write a series, about a college researcher who went out and found interesting people, the initial reason I decided to do that was because I got tired of reading the same old plot line, presented in the same old way.  Namely, the cheating plot line.

I wanted to see if "cheating" could be approached in a way that was less destructive that real cheating usually is.   "The Master's Project" was the result.

As usual, in the process of writing the series, I learned a lot, and the project (the real project) morphed into something I hadn't planned on.

I get mail asking me how I can understand something as well as I seem to.  Adoption, for instance.  I wrote about adoption in the Randy and Kathy episode of the series.  I got mail from people who were adopted, and were touched by some of the things I wrote about.  They assumed I must be adopted too.   

It's been that way with other things.  When I wrote "The Orphanage Blues", people asked if I was an oprhan.  There have been many other questions like that.

I am not, in fact, the kind of person I usually write about.  While I name the male protagonist "Bob" frequently, that's actually only because I'm lazy, and don't want to have to think up - and keep track of - different names for "the good guy", so to speak.

What you all are getting the benfit of isn't my personal experiences.  It's the personal experiences of literally thousands of people I HAVE interviewed over a long history of work that required ... interviews.

Without going into details, let me just say that I have interviewed these thousands of people about every subject under the sun.  We talked about their every day life, their hopes and dreams, their experiences and how those experiences caused things to happen.  We talked about crimes and jobs and relatives and cars and vacations and a hundred other subjects.

Again, without going into details, most of the time, they weren't being interviewed because they wanted to be interviewed.  For that reason, a lot of what I heard was suspect.   I heard a lot of fantasies as they told me how they hoped I would believe it really was.

But you can't talk to that many people, about that many things, and on such an intimate level, without a lot of truth coming out too.   And, more importantly, you can't talk to that many people, on such an intimate level, without some of their psyche seeping into your own.

I am - we all are, really - merely a compendium of all my/our own experiences, and a lot of the experiences (albeit vicariously) of all the people I've/we've come into contact with over fifty-odd (or however many) years.

When something happens to one person, ripples go out and affect other people.   If those other people pay attention, they learn something ... without haveing to experience it themselves.

I know a little of what it is like to be an orphan, or adopted, or assaulted, or kissed, or successful, or important, or ignored, or traumatized, or gloriously happy or ... well, I could go on for pages.  

It is that, that my stories benefit from.  I don't always get it perfect.  Sometimes I don't even get it mostly right.

But I ALWAYS get it close to what someone has experienced themselves.  I don't do that on purpose.  It's just a fact of nature that, with billions of people, experiencing billions of things, somewhere, somebody, has felt, or seen, or hoped what I write about.

In the Hebrew scriptures, Ecclesiastes 9 says it all:
"There is nothing new under the sun."

Ancient wisdom, for a modern age.
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2 Oct 06 - Lost and found

With the posting of two stories, "different" versions of "For Love Of Nature", I have to admit to a human frailty.  My memory isn't too great.

Many of you write and tell me how much you like to read my blog, so I thought I'd expand on the author's comment at the beginning of both stories.

I wrote the original story, the one called 'Chrissy's story' a long time ago, based on a request from a female reader to write 'her' story.   As it turned out, she didn't like the way I wrote it and, after she sent me a photo, I began to suspect that she was underage.  So I terminated my discussion with her.

The reason she didn't like the way I wrote it was because 'that's not how it happened'.  I had taken the germ of her story, as she told it to me, and had embellished it a little.  What most people don't understand is that "real" stories, while they may be tittilating, often lack what we want to read in a good erotic or fantastic story.   So I filled in a bunch of blanks and she didn't appreciate it.   And I still think she was underage, even though she claimed she wasn't.

So, what I had was a story that I couldn't post.  The reason for that is because I always promise not to post someone's story without their approval.   And she didn't approve.   And she was probably underaged anyway.

Some people might think it's odd to think about having morals when you write stories about things that would be illegal if they actually happened.  But, odd though it may be, I have a set of morals.  We can argue about that if you want to, but not here.  The fact is, I told her I wouldn't post it unless she approved, so I decided not to post it.  And, I was pretty sure she was underaged, and I don't encourage underaged sex, odd as THAT may sound to those of you who read my stuff.

So, the story sat there until I finally deleted it.

Later on, my morals being somewhat maleable (isn't THAT a surprise ), I regretted the deletion of the story.   I began wishing I'd kept it.  I could change it around more, thus making it even less 'her' story.  I could change the names.  The location was already wrong.  That was one of her complaints.

But all I had left of the story was the first page or two that I had sent her in an email.  I actually sent her the whole story, but she deleted the vast majority of it after trying to correct the first few pages.

So I had the beginning of my original story, with her changes.  I decided to go ahead and rewrite it.  I settled on some character names and off I went.

As those of you who read my stories routinely have figured out, I have evolved into an author who writes longer and longer ... and longer ... *sigh* ... stories.  I knew that the rewrite was longer than the original, but after those first couple of pages I also knew it went in a different direction.  Same general idea, but told in a different way.  

I finished the story and then, one day, while I was still editing it, I was rummaging around in my car and found a CD on which I had backed up all my stories once upon a time.   I looked at the list and, lo and behold, there was "_________'s Story" in the original format I sent her so long ago.

I opened it up and read it, just for fun, to see how well I had recalled things.

Boy, howdy, did I do it different the second time!  At least I think so.  It had a whole different flavor.  In fact, the flavor was SO different, I couldn't stand the thought that it would never see the light of day.

I had written things in multiple versions before.  That was received with interesting comments.  But this wasn't quite the same.  They were about the same idea, but they were really different to my eyes.  In the past, different versions had the same characters, by and large, but this time I thought that if I left the characters names the same in both stories, it would be really jarring to those who read them both.  I know that you guys out there always read all the versions - don't ask me why - even though I wrote different versions to appeal to people's different tastes.

So this time I went into the newer story and changed all the names.  Except for Uncle Bob, of course.  It's probably my vanity that caused that, even though I'm nothing like any of the Uncle Bob's I write about.

Anyway, there you have it.  You have a chance to see how I'd have written a story a year ago, and how I'd treat the same story idea nowadays.   I really think the flavor is completely different, and that the characters display their passions in a different way.

I suppose you'll have to be the real judge of that, of course.   In any case, maybe the evolutionary style of things might be interesting, if nothing else.

Let me know, if you so desire.

Interestingly, this is an example of why I don't want to write all those sequels you folks keep clamoring for.  I'm convinced that I wouldn't be able to recapture the ambiance of the original story now that I've "evolved".  I'm convinced that, while the sequel might be a good story, in and of itself, someone reading the original and then the sequel might be disappointed.   That's not to say I won't write some sequels some day.  I'm just putting it off out of angst.  Another human frailty exposed, huh?

Now you know the rest of the story.  And, as usual, thanks for reading.

Bob
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28 Aug 06 - What's in a title?

I got an email the other day that said the title "Prick Van Winkle" was just awful.  Actually, I believe he said "It sucks."

Titling a story is, for me, the hardest part of writing.  That's because, for me, the title should be part of the story.  Sometimes I have the whole story completely written before a title comes to me.  "Cattleman's Lament" was one of those that I just couldn't come up with a title for.  I think that title was actually recommended by another author who I respect a lot.

When it came to this story, though, the title was the first thing that popped into my head.  I liked it for a couple of reasons.  First of all, it's recognizable as being, in some way, about Rip Van Winkle.  But secondly, and maybe most importantly, it describes, in an ironic sort of way, what Bob Winkle was for fifty years.   To the women who interacted with him, he was basically two things:  He was a sounding board - someone to talk to about private and secret things and... he was a stiff prick.   The women interacted with him normally - talking to him - but a most important facet was that part of him that would have been denied them, had he been awake.

So, you see, the title isn't meant to shock, as much as it's meant to identify the major things about him that made him special.   He was a descendant of Rip, and to the women, he was a prick that continued to create more of Rip's descendants, even though he didn't know it at the time.

Just thought you might want to know.

Bob
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27 Aug 06 - Winning the lottery, without winning the lottery

I have to thank my readers once again for making me feel really REALLY good.  I started in this expression of my own feelings a little more than a year ago, just throwing some stuff out there to see what you folks thought.   Your response was both hearwarming and energising.

With the latest story I've started posting, "Prick Van Winkle" my download count just went over a million.

It was like winning the Lottery for me.   I'm serious.  If I had a lot of money, I'd just spend it.  But having people like my stories that much is something almost priceless.

Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Bob
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18 Aug 06 - Thundering Silence

A while back I told you all I'd be gone for a while, but that I'd be back.   Then I came back and dropped one story and went silent again.   Since some of you have contacted me wondering what was going on, I figured I'd share a little more about the life of a writer.   I've touched on some of this before, but I'll describe what has recently happened as an example.

I had an idea for a story that was based on a legend, or fairy tale.   I envisioned it to be about 200 KB long, which would be about six of my usual sized chapters.   It had seven primary characters, and three secondary ones.

The way I write is to just begin with the plot idea, setting up the characters to arrange for things to happen.  Let's say, for example, that I want female A to mate with male B.  So I develop the plot to get them together in a way that you, the reader, will feel could actually happen.   

Now you can't just say "Sally ran into Billy one day and he was hot, so she pulled him into the bushes and jumped his bones.  He made her pregnant, and they were both happy."

Well, you could say that, but nobody would read it.

There is this thing I call my muse, and she is what tells me how to do something more interesting than the example above.   She has this mystical connection to the characters, who talk to her, and then she talks to me as I write.   I know that sounds stupid to non-authors, but that's the way it is.

So, when character A is, according to my plot idea, supposed to do activity B, but doesn't want to, because that character would much rather do action C, an idea pops into my brain that changes the plot.

The best example I have of that is in my story "The Best Thousand Dollars I Ever Spent."   There was a chauffer in the original plot, and he was supposed to deliver people here and there and that was about it.  I mean, rich people use limos, right?   So I needed a Limo, and a driver.   

But the driver didn't want to be just a sidebar in a story.  He wanted to be more involved in the plot.  His personality popped into my head, as did his prior relationship with Jasmine.  The idea that a really nice guy could still be the person who, for all intents and purposes, was a part time pimp, and yet be a really nice guy just flowed out of my fingertips. I never planned that.  It just happened as I wrote.

OK, so here's the deal.  My new relatively short story with seven characters, kind of grew like a bamboo shoot.   I could actually watch it get bigger and bigger.  There was a detective, who was supposed ot have one scene.  He not only wanted more, he wanted a LOT more.   There were two cops who were supposed to just guard a hospital room.  They got ambushed and dragged into the plot, becoming very important characters.  New scenes kept popping into my head and at one point I thought "When is this crazy thing ever going to end?"   Then, right when I thought there might be a light at the end of the tunnel, the the three original minor characters got frisky and decided that they deserved to have full and complete lives too.

In short, that 200 KB story ended up to be 1006 KB long.  It's going to be titled "Prick Van Winkle"

I just finished it.  It's in the editing process.  It's the longest story I ever wrote and I have no idea if it's any good or not.  My muse thinks so.  She's purring in my ear as I write this.  I keep looking at it and thinking "MAN! That's a long story!  I wonder how many people will be bored to tears by the 20th chapter?"

But it all took time - LOTS of time - which is why I have been silent for so long.  I kept thinking "OK, today I'll finish it." and then something else would happen to the plot that would require another chapter.  One love scene ended up to be a chapter and a half long all by itself.  My muse was horny that day, I guess.

So there you go.  I've actually been writing.  I just couldn't figure out how to stop.

As a service to those of you who like to wait until the whole story is uploaded, so you can read it all at one sitting ... well ... it's 32 chapters long, with an Epilogue.   You might want to rethink that 'all at one sitting' idea.  It's going to take at least two weeks to post it, even if I put up double the normal number of chapters I usually submit.

And for those of you who say "Why not just post the whole think all at once?", I have to explain that, during the posting process, little changes are made.  After it's finished, and as I post it, I notice things that need to be corrected, or made to match between early and late portions of the story.  It's part of the quality control in a story.  And, occasionally, a reader comment leads to a change or expansion.

So ... it could get even longer ... (big shit-eating grin)

Thanks for your patience.

And of course, for reading.
Bob
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14 Jul 06 - Making Sense of Erotica

Somebody wrote to me the other day and asked me what it was like to have frequent sex with my female relatives.  He also asked me how many illegitimate babies I'd knocked them up with.

That brings up the question of how you can make sense of what you read at places like ASSTR.

Think of it this way:   You go out and buy a Playboy.  You could make it a magazine that women like to buy (for the same reason men like Playboy), but that would make this blog entry really long by doing the he/she thing.  So let's just stick with Playboy for now.

You open the magazine and there she is ... the woman of your dreams.  She's beautiful, intelligent, has hobbies you like and works with charity organizations.  She's perfect, and she took off her clothes just for you.

So you find out where she lives and go knock on the door and say "Here I am, Baby, let's start our perfect life together!"

If you think that scenario will work, you need to stop buying Playboy, because you're missing the point.

Women who take their clothes off for magazines (or web sites) do it for money ... not for you.   Oh, I'm sure there are some exhibitionists out there who get a kick out of it, but if you show up at their door with a hardon and an empty wallet, don't expect to be greeted with open arms.   

It's all fantasy boys.  They sell you the fantasy, and you pay for the fantasy and you ENJOY the fantasy ... but it's still ... fantasy.

Just because a woman takes her clothes off in front of a man does NOT mean she wants to have sex with him.  Nude beaches come to mind.  That buxom babe lying on a towel over there topless might want to have sex with ONE of the men on that beach, or in some circumstances even a few more, but she'll always want to be the one to choose WHICH men get to do the deed.

Movies are the same way.  Women (and men) do things in movies to intrigue and excite the viewer.  Sometimes they are sexy things, and there's the expectation that the viewer will want to put him/herself (I said I wasn't going to do that, didn't I!) into one of the roles in the imagination.

They sell fantasy.

If you take the fantasy too seriously, the nice policeman comes and takes you away, and the celebrity goes on Oprah and sighs about how precious their privacy is.

So please ... please ... understand that I serve up the same thing.  I think of things that, in an alternate universe would be a lot of fun to actually do.

But I live in THIS universe.

Thanks for reading.
Bob
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20 Jun 06 - Spring? Cleaning

Hey, I'm back from my sabbatical (for those of you who actually noticed I was gone).

I'm working on some longer stories, since those are the ones that everybody whines for.  But, while I'm doing those, I'm going to sift through my projects folder and do a little house cleaning.  There are several nursery rhyme ideas that have been sitting around for a while.  I'll probably post them under my other pen name "Just Bob" since that's what I created that name for.  There may be a few short and naughty stories, reminiscent of my early posts, because I started a whole slew of those that I never finished.

So you may see some things that will make you think I've regressed to my infantile author state.

Just think of it like this.  I'm serving up some chips while I prepare the prime rib.

Well, really good burgers anyway.

Thanks for your cards and letters.
Bob
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14 May 06 - More thanks to the readers

I must, once again, thank some of you out there for doing something nice for me.  I write for fun, and it really is fun.  I didn't intend to become a feedback junkie, or to touch as many lives as it appears I have touched, but those things happened.

Now, somebody out there nominated "The Orphange Blues" for a Silver Clitoride, and a bunch of other people voted for it - at least enough to make it the winner of the Silver Clit in April.

I have to tell you something though.  I may have mentioned it before, and the authors who read this will probably understand exactly what I'm talking about.   You see, sometimes, when you start writing a story, the characters take over and tell the author what they want to say and do.  It becomes their story in a strange way, and a good author will listen to them.   Those turn out to be the best stories for me.  That's what happened with that story.  

So the Silver Clitoride really DOES belong to the story, because all I did was listen to those women, and that young man, and write down what they told me to write.

They asked me to thank everyone who voted for them.  They appreciate your support.

And thank you all for reading.
Bob
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10 May 06 - Tripping over the bar

If you're not an author, this may seem strange, but take my word for it ... this writing business is a nerve wracking kind of existence.  

You get an idea, and you think about it, and get excited about it, and then you write it down.   Then you go over it and make little changes here and there, and a couple of big changes as you realize something didn't make any sense at all.   Then you spell check it.   If you have an editor, he or she goes over it and tells you what an idiot you are for not knowing a comma from a period, or for using words that don't exist (I thought that was called "coining a word"), or my personal favorite, using "it's" when you clearly should have used "its".

Meanwhile this story is fully developed, fully written, and is burning a hole in your literary pocket, so to speak.   You want to post it, but it's just not ready yet.

Then you finally post it and hold your breath.  As I have said in other blog entries, your baby has been born and you wait to see how many people say "What a pretty baby!" and how many suggest a burlap bag as headgear for the poor deformed dear.

Now that's all just the normal stuff that goes with every story you post.

Then ... out of the blue ... along comes a story that people just love.  EVERYBODY thinks it's a beautiful baby.  They rant and rave about how talented this baby is.   They tell you this is the most beautiful baby in the whole town.

Sounds wonderful ... right?

Except that you're a writer.   And writers ... write.  And that means you have to make another baby, and that baby is going to be compared to the last one, and since the last one was the most beautiful baby in town ... how the hell can you follow that?

So, here's what I did.  This is a secret.  It's my secret weapon, and you can't tell anyone.   

I took a couple of weeks off.  

The public is fickle, right?  In two weeks they'll forget anything, right?    And, while the public is forgetting all about the most beautiful baby in the whole town, I wrote another story.  

I like it.  And, the way I figure it, all babies are unique anyway, right?  What fun would it be to be dazzled each and every time you opened one of my stories?   Wouldn't you get bored of being dazzled?

The bottom line is, thanks for all the wonderful comments you sent about "The Orphanage Blues".  But I'm not really that good.  So don't expect everything I do from now on to clear that bar, which I fully admit I set too high myself, probably when I took too many vitamins or something while I was writing it.

Just remember, I'm fat and old.  I could trip over the bar if it was lying on the ground.

Tell you what.  If you won't expect everything to be as good as "Orpahange Blues" was ... I'll order up a bunch more vitamins.  Who knows?  Maybe lightning really can strike twice in the same place.

11 Apr 06 - Historical correctness

Sometimes, when you write a story, you set it in a time gone by.  That's called "Historical fiction" I suppose, but for me, it's just a vehicle to establish a plot that's a little different than "normal".

On the other hand, when you do that, you get mail from people about historical inaccuracies you put in your story.   That's going to happen, I suspect, with "The Orphanage Blues."   If you read this blog entry after April the 12th, 2006, then it probably already HAS happened.

Here's why.  Official records list historical events as happening on a certain date and time.  President Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963, for example.  Some accounts give the time of 12:30 PM.

A common story told by people who were alive back then, is that they remember exactly what they were doing when President Kennedy was shot, or when they heard he had been shot.

Except it's not that easy.  There are people all over the world who remember exactly what they were doing when John F. Kennedy was killed.  For some of those people, their memory is NOT associated with 12:30 PM, 22 Nov 63.   That's because, where they were, it was 5:30 AM, 23 Nov 63 ... or 7:30 PM, 22 Nov 63, or any other combination.

Time zones, and the International Date line screw this kind of thing up.  And, for Americans, significant events that take place in other countries, on the other side of the planet, happen "at a different time" than what the historical record sometimes says.

So, when you read about Bobby, doing something significant at 5:15 PM, on the 5th of Aug, 1945, while the Atomic Bomb is being dropped on Hiroshima, please don't write to me and tell me that everybody knows that that's not when the bomb was dropped.  That IS when the bomb was dropped, if you were living where Bobby was living at the time.

Depending on how you look at it, of course.

Thanks for reading, and for straightening me out when I screw things up.  I really appreciate the corrections you guys out there send me, because that makes me a better writer, and a little smarter too.

Bob
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2 Apr 06 - Awards, and who is responsible for them

I thought for a while about this blog entry, because when I say the first part, it's going to sound like I'm pretty proud of myself.  But get past that part.  It has to go first because otherwise you wouldn't know what the heck I was talking about.

I got notified that, in the 2005 Golden Clitorides, I won Best New Author, and my story "Tutor's Blues" won best Short Story, and took third place for Best Story by a New Author.

Now I have to say I'm thrilled to the core.  It's an honor to be recognized that way.

However, it's important to understand that the key word in that last sentence was "recognized".

It's the people who read the stories, and like the stories, and vote for the authors who make these things happen.  The readers recognize something they want to reward.  It's you guys out there who made this happen.

So I want to thank you.  Thank you for reading the stories in the first place.  Thank you for treating me so nicely the majority of the time.  Thank you for voting for me.  Thank you for being out there so I can write stories and share them with you.

Before I started posting stories, I wrote them just for me.  And that was fine, and I had a good time.  But having someone to share them with, and getting pats on the back make it SO much more fun.

And another thing that Celtic Cowboy reminded me of is that, before I started writing stories, I read a lot of them, some good and some not so great.  But I learned something from all of them, and little bits and pieces of various authors, both professional and amateur seeped into me and ooze back out into my writing.  I owe a debt of thanks to all those authors who have affected the way I look at life and the eroticism that can be in most of life.

So thanks, to all of you who read.  I'll keep writing.  In the meantime, whenever you read a story that tugs at something in you, no matter who writes it, surf on over to  

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Clitorides/www/Silver_Clitorides.htm

That's where you can nominate a story or an author for recognition for the monthly best story in the Silver Clitorides.

Or you can email a nomination to golden.clits@gmail.com

And explore the site, because there are a LOT of good authors listed there, and names of great stories that you should look up and read.

To see the "awards banquet" for this year, go to

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Clitorides/www/GCA_2005.htm

You'll find good writers, and some of their stories listed there.  And, sometime later, that address will have the nomination form you can use for all the different categories.

Again, thanks so much for all the support you folks give me.  It makes the difference and it motivates me to write stories like "Tutor's Blues".

Bob
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28 Mar 06 - More anonymous mail

There are other entries in this blog where I rant about anonymous email from people who make negative comments about stories.

This entry, however, isnt' going to be like that.  

I understand how people who read smut don't want their name bandied about "in public".   After all, I created an email account under a ficticious name to post these stories, probably for some of the same reasons people want to write anonymous emails.

But I get a lot of comments now from "anonymous" that are engaging, and which I'd like to answer.  I try to answer all my feedback email.  It just seems neighborly, you know?

But you CAN'T reply to anonymous email.  Those replies don't go anywhere, because it's actually anonymous.

So, this entry is to thank all of you who have written, or will write anonymously.   I appreciate your viewpoint, and your comments, and I actually pay attention to them.   

I can't tell you that, in an email tailored to you, but I just wanted you to know I'm thankful for your comments.

Thanks for reading.

Anonymous Bob
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20 Mar 06 - Stories are like babies

As most authors do, I get a little mail once in a while.  Most of it is pretty nice ... complimentary ... and that's good.  Once in a while somebody points out a mistake, or tells me they're just not interested in a story for one reason or another.  Both of those are good things too.

I got to thinking about one email where a guy said the device I used just ruined the whole story for him and he quit reading.  It was like he had told me my kid was incorrigible, and that he wanted me to lock the little ingrate in a closet or something.

That led to thoughts of how, when a writer is developing a story, it's like creating a baby.  First of all it's fun to create a baby.  And it's fun to create a story, though I have to admit I've never had an orgasm over a story idea.   I've had story ideas that came from orgasms ... you know what I mean.

Anyway, you have all these dreams about what your baby is going to be like, and as the chapters pile up it's a little like a pregnant belly swelling.  That file gets bigger and bigger and kicks and shoves, just like a baby does in the womb as it develops.  

Then one day it is done and, like a baby coming out of the womb into the cold cruel world, the first chapter of the story is posted.  

Now the world judges it.  Of course to you, it's perfect, with all its little fingers and toes, and you coo at it and are so proud of it.

Then some schmuck says "Man ... that's an UGLY baby!"

OK, maybe it's head is shaped a little weird.  Maybe one eye wanders.  But it's going to mature as further chapters are posted, until it's fully formed, and a grown up story is the result.

Most people say "What a nice well behaved child you have!"   And you smile and are all proud of your story, which is like your child.

And the schmuck shows back up and tells you that your sweet child shoplifted something, or threw rocks through somebody's window, or worse.

Once in a while, when you go back and look at a story, you're a little disappointed, like you are when you find out your teenager started smoking or whatever.

Some stories grow up and go to college and get doctorates, while others stay stupid little rednecks who will never amount to anything.

I didn't plan on having this big a family.  It's been a wild and strange ride.  And it turns out that all of you readers are the villiage it takes to raise these particular offspring.

So, if you find that you're disappointed in one of my children, that's fine.  Tell me about it.  It's not a problem.  Like most parents I have a few favorites, who I will defend to the end.  But I know they're not all rocket scientist material.  

I appreciate you helping ride herd on the little ankle biters.  Maybe it will help them grow up to be good stories.

As always, thanks for reading.
Bob
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17 Feb 06 - Who I am not

There is a new writer at the site who has chosen "Just Plain Bob" as a pen name.  I also use the pen name "Just Bob", as some of you may know.  While I am "Just Bob"  I am not, in my own opinion, plain.

So if you were wondering, it ain't me folks.  I don't have any ex-wives and, while I write about incest frequently, and cheating once in a while, as those of you who know me are aware, I don't engage in either of those things and never have.  I also don't write about anal sex, or one man eating another man's cum, because those things just don't do it for me.

That said, the new guy writes pretty well, and if you like that sort of thing, he's worth reading.

Just please don't get us confused.  Life is confusing enough.

Thanks for reading.
Bob
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3 Feb 06 - The Rocking R controversy

A number of people have written to me saying things like "What's up with the three versions of the Rocking R Ranch story?"

Others have written saying that it's too confusing to try to read all the versions at the same time.  I'll get to that later.

Now, apparently, some people think that the only reason to publish three versions is to inflate one's readership numbers.  And others think that it's because I'm too lazy to write three original stories.

I'm puzzled about the first idea, because I haven't figured out what inflated readership numbers would actually DO for an author.  I mean we don't get paid, and there are no advertisers, so whether one person reads a story or a thousand do makes no difference as far as I can tell.

And as far as being lazy goes, it's actually harder to take one story and then parse it into three different ones than it is to just write three different stories.

True, I can do a little cutting and pasting, but then it has to be gone through with a fine tooth comb to make sure that Molly turned into Cathy, or Dee turned into Megan and that the right guy is doing all those hot things to the right girl.  And that's a LOT of work!   

My buddy Gene, and then later several other loyal readers, found some of those little mistakes where I missed them, and they gleefully shoot big holes in my ego by pointing them out, so doing a three version story has nothing whatsoever to do with being lazy.

The actual reason I did this is not too complicated.  First off, people liked "The Passion Of Art", which was a four version story.   Secondly, I get mail all the time that says something like "Hot story.  Too bad it was Uncle and Niece when it should have been Brother and Sister."   And then there are readers whose kink is mother son or whatever.   I like different combinations myself.   So I made the versions fit the most popular incest demographics.   

Lastly, these multiple version stories generate a lot of feedback, to which I am addicted, and that feeds my addiction.

So, that's why I did it.

In other words, I'm not padding the count, and not lazy.  Instead I care deeply about the sensitive and vulnerable readers out there who ache to find that special story, written in the style that inflames their passions, about the kinds of people they love to fantasize about.

Hey, that last paragraph was pretty good, wasn't it?  Hmmmm ... maybe I should work that into a story somewhere...

Suffice it to say, artistic bullshit aside, I just like doing the multiple version type stories.

Or, I'm just a prince of a fellow.

Or, I'm a shameless feedback junkie.

One of the three.

Aw, heck.  You decide.

Now, as to the confusion about reading all the versions at the same time.   I have to refer you to the earlier paragraph in which I said I did this to appeal to people's different kinks.   I thought you folks would choose the version that most nearly matched what turns you on and read that, ignoring the others.  If, however, you are as kinky as I am, and want to read ALL the versions, here's my advice:

Pick one and stick with that one until they're all done.  Read it first.   Then, after a couple of weeks, go read another version.  If you're a glutton for punishment, wait another week or two and read the last one.  

That way you will have forgotten what happened in preceeding versions (if you're anything like me) and it won't be so confusing.  OK?

Thanks for reading
Bob
***************************************

14 Jan 06 - Talking funny

Why you people actually read this blog is one of the great mysteries of life, well, my life anyway.  But my mail says you do, and some of you have a good time doing it.  Life should be fun, you know?

Anyway I got a note from a friend of mine who's British, who made reference to one of my stories where there was a teenaged girl sitting on the porch really unhappy because her brother and one of her friends were off ... having fun.  When they came back from ... having fun, they looked at her and the way I described it was "She was pissed."

Now us Americans think of that as "angry".  But all the Brits who read that story shook their heads because to them it meant "drunk".  In 'one' story she was mad that her friend went off and had sex with her brother.  In 'the other' she just got drunk.

Of course context helps, and all my very literate British readers figured it out, but why is language so odd sometimes?

And I don't mean just different meanings for the same words.

For example, in lots of America, if somebody hands you something, say, like handing you the Playboy you just asked for over the counter, the person will often say "There you are."

Where the heck did THAT come from?  Of course you are "there".  That's why they could find you to hand you the magazine in the first place.  And, come to think of it, where else would you be?  It's meaning has no relationship to the words used in the phrase.

Same thing for "Here you go." which is also used in that same exact situation. The words themselves don't make any sense at all.  How did that come to be used for "This is your Playboy ... I'm handing it to you now."

In my admittedly somewhat warped imagination, I have this image of where that one came from though.  I see some white trader, during the Indian days (Native American Indians, to my Brit pals)in the old west, trading with the Indians.  They have learned by now that when a white man comes around, everybody gets screwed, literally and figuratively, but the damn white-eyes won't go away so you have to deal with them, right?  So the Indian hands over whatever it was the white man wanted and says "Here!  You go!"  Over the years the puncutation got lost and ... there you are!  So to speak.

Of course sexual terms are some of the worst in the language.  I used "screwed" up above, which doesn't make any sense unless you think of the woman in a harness, hanging from the ceiling on a rope.  The guy lets her down onto his prong and spins her.  Now THAT would be getting screwed.  "Nailed", on the other hand, I understand completely.

There are hundreds of others.  "What's up?" doesn't make any sense at all.  "You're freaking me out." is completely senseless.  "I'm so happy I could die!"  Now there's a good one.  I don't think I ever want to be that happy, OK?  And the list could go on and on.  You probably have your favorites and I'm sure there's a web site out there somewhere that collects things like that, but I've never seen it.

So, gentle reader, what I ask from you is to look at the context of the words as I use them.  It's going to be an American context, cause that's all I know.

But please DO write to me if you find one of those "Pissed" things.  It's so much fun to hear about other meanings for words I use.

Thanks for reading.
Bob
***************************************

1 Jan 06 - Doing more than just writing

When I wrote the story called "Teasing Niece, Teasing Sister" I made the story about ... teasing.  Now some of you out there might say "Well duh!"

But the fact is, I got some mail after the first chapter, and some people called me out, so to speak, because the chapter was so short, and not very much happened, and they wanted to know what happened next and were unhappy that I didn't tell them that in a longer chapter.

Now think about that.

It's a story about teasing.  

See, you can do more with a story than just write it.  You can put things in it that you know will bring up old memories in the reader's mind.  You can talk about places that some readers know about because they've been there, or maybe even live there.  You can put in cars and songs that they'll remember from their youth.  And when you do things like that, it makes the story more personal to the reader.

You ... connect with the reader.

Isn't that what stories are all about?  Aren't they supposed to connect with the people who read them?  And doesn't it make sense that, if the reader is looking at a story about about teasing ... you should maybe ... tease them a little bit?  Wouldn't that make a connection?   Wouldn't the anticipation about what happens next spur their imagination?

I thought so.

So I teased the readers with a short chapter that didn't deliver very much ... but hinted at things to come.  And a hundred and nine people voted for that story, even though all that had happened was that they were teased a little.

And a few of them were mad as hell that they had been teased.

Now I have to say here, that there were a fair number of folks who sent an email in which it was obvious they noticed my teasing them and approved of it.  To them I give my salute.  They "got" the fact that there can be more to a story than just the words in it.

This blog entry is for those folks who were so busy looking for the sex that they missed the ambiance of the story.

Now that the story is finished, I have to point out one last thing.  A few folks wrote to me and wanted to know the paternity of Crystal's first baby.   Was it her brother?   Or Uncle Bob?

What better way to end a story about teasing ...

Get it?

Thanks for reading.
Bob
***************************************

27 Dec 05 - Why stories are like food

When you (meaning me) write a story you start with your own biases, and the things that excite your own imagination.  I think the average writer, whether he's a good one and nationally known, or somebody who just wants to be able to say "Look at that!  I got a story on the internet!", writes what HE or SHE wants to read.  That is, after all, why there is such diversity in the printed word.  We're all different in a lot of ways.

So, it's natural that my stories are similar in the sense that I like a certain set of things, so that's what I write about.

Think of it a little like food.   Most of us have favorite dishes.  We don't eat them every single meal, but we go back to them time and again.   And, if you look at your routine diet, chances are that you eat the same general set of foods, maybe rotating them around so you don't get bored, but, all in all, a definable group of edibles.

And then along comes a friend or acquaintance, who suggests you try something new.  You aren't sure about it, because you might not like it.  And ... you already have YOUR group of foods identified.

But you try it, or even better, a friend tries something YOU like, and, if things work out, there are smiles all around.

So, taking the analogy a little further, let's say you like cheese (I've been accused of writing cheesey stories once in a while ).  As far as you're concerned, cutting off a nice slab of Cheddar, or Gouda or whatever and munching away at it is just great.  And, you have some friends who come around now and then and you cut them slabs too.  And there are smiles all around, while you watch something on the tube or play cards or whatever.

And then somebody says "You know, if you melt that cheese and put it on some chips ... that's really good too.  And there are smiles all around.

And from there you start cooking with cheese and end up creating what your guests call a delicacy.  And there are BIG smiles all around.  It's was a lot more work to cook with cheese than it was to just cut off a slab.  But those smiles were REALLY big.

It turns out writing is like that.  I started with what I liked ... short, hot stories.  String cheese, if you will.  And along came a reader who said "You know, if you did 'this' it might be really nice".

And there were smiles.  Not necessarily all around, because some people don't care for cheese.  You know what I mean.

But some of the people who liked the short stories REALLY liked the longer more involved stories.  And, as the smiles got bigger, it made it worth all the effort it took to create a "delicacy."

Now, lest you think I'm tooting my own horn (which I am to some degree, I guess, but I'm trying to be humble here, OK?) there are still a lot of people out there who just don't care for cheese, so to speak.

But, once in a while, you have a guest show up who says "You know, I don't care for cheese, but I've heard that your cheese dishes are really pretty good, so I've decided to try one."

And you serve them up a portion ... and you hold your breath ... and you watch their face ... and you get all tight inside, because you WANT them to like it ... because YOU like it.

And sometimes they smile.

And all the work and effort and fear and false starts and disappointment because a particular dish didn't look like it was going to turn out well ... it's all worth it in the end, because your guests smiled when it was all done with.

I love food.  It's one of the last vices I can partake in.   And I love my readers, and the smiles they send me now and then.

As we start a new year I just want to say thanks.  Cheese may be the only thing I know how to cook with at the present, but I promise I'll keep trying to come up with new recipies.

I notice your smiles, and I listen to your suggestions, even if I don't always incorporate them into my ... dishes.

Thanks to all.
Cheesey Bob
***************************************

18 Nov 05 - Coding stories ... or maybe not.

When I post the first chapter of a new story I often get mail from loyal readers who love to tell me what they think is going to happen in the rest of the story.  

They're often correct.

Sometimes that's because I'm pretty predictable, and write the same kinds of stories a lot.

But at other times they talk about the codes, and about which characters they think will be involved with which codes.

Again, they're often correct.

But, as an author, sometimes I don't WANT you to be able to predict what's going to happen.  I want to surprise you.  I want to make you gasp and say things like "Oh my GOSH!" or maybe "Awwwwwwww".

So, sometimes I leave some of the codes out, so they don't give everything away.

Sometimes I get mail from people unhappy that those codes weren't there.  I got one email from a guy who let me have it and said "If you'd have coded the story correctly I wouldn't have read it.  I don't like pregnancy stories!"   This was after story number sixty something or other.  My first reaction to this guy was that if he hadn't figured out that I was into pregnacy by story number sixty-something, I really didn't need him as a reader.

I am posting a story titled "The Best Thousand Dollars I Ever Spent", which is a perfect example of my coding ... or non coding ... theory.  Codes would ruin the suspense and surprise of this story.  I even wrote the teaser in such a way that, though it is absolutely true, gives a completely false impression of what the story is about.   Why?   Because I think the surprise is a major part of the story.

So, in exchange for giving you what I hope is a well thought out plot, with good characters, I'm asking you to read it without knowing all the codes.  What I can tell you is that, if you liked my other stories, the chances are pretty good you'll like this one too, even if it doesn't LOOK like the kind of story you usually want to read about.

And after it's all over, go back and read that teaser again.  You'll see that, though it gives a completly false impression of what the story is about ... it's absolutely true.  Isn't that ironic?

As always ... thanks for reading.
Bob
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19 Oct 05 - Truth in advertising

In the interests of truth, which I try to insert into my stories, at least in terms of historical settings, and the songs mentioned and little things like that, I have to admit that I did a short cut when I wrote "Rubber Dicky, I Love You".

A reader known as NonyMouse informed me in a kind way that Dentists don't use silicone to make the molds of teeth they produce.  The substance is actually called alginate.  It's a product of algae/seaweed, and when mixed with water becomes a gooey mess, and solidifies
like jello, only very rapidly, without odor, and
THEN they make the positive from the negative
mold.  Doesn't shrink either!

So, if any of you out there were planning on making a mold of anything, using a soda bottle filled with silicone, you might want to re-think that idea.  It could turn out unhappily.  And, just imagine showing up at the ER with a soda bottle of silicone stuck to you ... somewhere.  

In other words ... don't try this at home, folks, especially based on the wild imaginings of some goofy author who was too lazy to look up what the real stuff was called before he wrote a story.  

I suppose you COULD have a nice intimate chat with your dentist about getting some alginate, but just remember ... the guy (or gal) climbs in your mouth sometimes ... and there can be pain involved.

As always, thanks for reading.
Bob
***************************************

28 Sep 05 - A vagina, by any other name is still a ...

If this doesn't make immediate sense to you as a blog entry, please refer to the blog entry just prior to this one.  In deference to all the lovely female readers out there, this entry is to comple a list of all the names the world has for what we writers of erotica most often call a "pussy".  So girls, (and guys too, for that matter) send in your favorites and I'll post them here.

And now, the list:
Pussy
Cunt
Slot
Hole
Beaver
cave
tunnel
---------------------------------------
A reader named Greg, who admits he reads WAY too much smut contributed:
Slit
Crack
Cunny
Hoo-Hah
Fuzz Pocket
Poon (I've heard poon tang lots of times)
Clam
Fuzzy Clam (au natural)
Snapper
Coochie
Cum Bucket
Kitty
Butterfly
--------------------------------------
These came from various locations and stories
Honey Pot
Million Dollar Hole
Money Maker
Fortress of Ecstacy
Milk Maid's Bucket
Sperm Bank
Sausage Grinder
---------------------------------------
These were contributed by lacedflaws
snatch
sheath
velvet vice
-----------------------------------------
Peter_B_Good had these:
Quim (his favorite)
Minge (The shortest miniskirts were called "minge fringes"
Fud
pussy pelmets (a pelmet is that little strip of cloth at the top of the drapes that hides the curtain rod)
-------------------------------------------
(I can see a miniskirt being called a pussy helmet, since it covers and protects said pussy)
-------------------------------------------
Nicole says hers is named "Love Channel"
-------------------------------------------
KB sent me the following:
Yoni (from the orient)
"the Jade Gate" (China)
womanhood
holy of holies (in a Charles Bronson flick)
gates of heaven
pink
The Way Home" or just "Home" (in a funny novel once read)
Dwight contributed:
The peace sign
Lips
The pink hole.
***************************************

28 Sep 05 - A penis, by any other name is still a ...

I got an interesting and funny email from an author who goes by the handle of "Peter_B_Good" and, one of the things he mentioned was the cultural/language differences, in particular, the names we have for the male genetalia.

Peter suggested that this blog might be a good place to collect as complete a list as possible for all those names.  Now I'm sure such a list exists somewhere already, but hey, this is for fun.  So please drop me a line and I'll paste in your responses if it isn't already present.

And, in deference to all the lovely female readers out there, I suppose we should have a list for the receptacle of love too.  But we'll keep that in another blog entry.  Wouldn't want them too close to this list or an accident might happen.

And now ... the list:
Peter_B_Good gets head billing, since it was his idea, really
Peter (naturally)
John Thomas (Peter's preference, him being a Brit)
J.Thomas
Sir John
cock
prick
todger
Peggo
Plonker
Percy (as in "I need to go to the loo and point Percy at the porcelain."
------------------------------------------
A few more I'm aware of or have used:
Schlong
Rod
Willy
Henry (what my wife named mine)
Prong
Spear (sometimes with "of love" added
Meat
magic wand
finger fodder
boner
----------------------------------------
These were contributed by a reader named Greg, who admits he reads WAY too much smut:
Trouser Trout
Trouser Snake
One Eye'd Willy
Love Rocket
Pocket Rocket
Tool
Purple-Helmeted Yogurt Thrower
Richard and the Twins
Sex Pistol
One Hole Friction Whistle
The Pink Oboe
Bone-Her
Pussy Pleaser
Gristle Missle
Harry & the Hendersons
Dip Stick
Ralph The Fur Faced Chicken
Chicken (as in choking the chicken)
Rod
Gangplank (sailors welcome you aboard)
Staff
Pud
Licorice Stick
-----------------------------------
a couple contributed by lacedflaws:
babymaker
sword
-----------------------------------
Stuart Smith provided:
Purple Battering Ram of Love
bishop
love snake,
monkey (as in spanking the monkey)
python
weapon
wang
One Eyed Policeman
-----------------------------------------
I thought of these during a moment of rememberance of my years in Korea:
Lizard (going to drain the lizard)
Lap Lizard (What the bar girls mentioned while sitting on one's lap - "Your lap lizard is acting up!")
Lap snake (see above)
Soldier (My soldier is at attention)
Yobo stick
-------------------------------------------------
Dwight contributed:
Log
Woody and wood
Fence post
Telephone pole
Baseball bat
Tootsie roll(in a movie " Are you glad to see me or is that a toosie roll in your pocket?)
A roll of quarters
-----------------------------------
I was chastised by one reader for being a vet and not remembering "Short Arm" from the "short arm inspections" that we used to have in the Army, whereupon we were either given a clean bill of health, or serious drugs.

Then Frank Downey caught me up for a term I've read in at least ten of his stories and that's "Mr. Happy"
I'm "Happy" to include that in this list.
----------------------------------------------------
Joe J, another author (who is quite good, kids - you should read his stuff - contributed the following:
One Eyed Ranger (taken from Army Rangers ... who are reputed to be "good in the bush"), and,
Johnson (can you believe we all forgot THAT one?)
***************************************

6 Sep 05 - Why I write so much about pregnancy, Chapter two

Author's note:  I got an email from a guy who says he doesn't do any of the things you're about to read, and he objected to being included in "all men".  So, I'm not trying to speak for "all men" here.  OK?

People still write and ask me why I always knock up the women in my stories.  "What is it with your obsession about sperm and eggs and pregnancy?" they complain.
 
I wrote about this in the blog already, and they obviously didn't read it.  But, as ASSTR has so wonderfully provided me with this space, I'll just tell you why in a little more detail.
 
First, I want to discuss this from the erotica angle.  I think most men love to look at a pregnant woman because of a game we all play.  When you're growing up, and when your grown, and when you're too old to actually have sex any more, one of the favorite pasttimes of men is to look at a selected woman, whether they know her or not, and ask themselves what I call "The big four questions" that are on most men's minds when they play the game.

(1)"Does she do it?"  Does this woman take off her clothing and spread her legs and let a man slide his penis into her?   
(2)AND, does she let him do it bareback?    
(3)AND does she let him cum in her?   
(4)AND does she let him do all these things when she's fertile?
Some men ask a fifth question:  What are the chances she'd do it with me?

This is a game men NEVER tire of playing.  But ... the problem is, you never actually know.   I mean you can assume she's sexually active, or that she's not a virgin.  You can guess about it.  But you can't actually walk up to her and say

"By the way, to you do the bump ugly?  Really?  How often and what's your favorite position?  I see, that's nice ... and, by the way, what are my chances of getting in on this?"   

Well, you can, but it causes problems.  So there is this sort of unsatisfying conclusion to the game when you see a woman you'd LIKE to do it with, or one you'd like to fantasize doing it with, but you don't know if she actually even DOES it.

But, when you see a pregnant woman ... you know.   You know she does it.  Or that she actually did it at least once.   That bulging belly represents the absolute knowledge that this woman spread her legs for a man and he shot off in her. For sure it happened. The evidence is obvious.

This is a woman "who does it!"   

So men fantasize a lot about these women because it's positive that "she does it."   And if she did it with the schmuck who knocked her up this time, who knows, she might actually do it with you some day.

Before I move on I have to say there are some folks out there who are saying "Hey!  What about the M.I.L.F.S.?  All those mothers did it didn't they?  And we can fantasize about them doing it with us, right?"  Sure, guys, but you don't KNOW they actually did it.  What if they adopted?  What if they abducted those cute kids they have?  What if they bought them in Hong Kong? What if those kids belong to her sister?

With a pregnant woman ... you KNOW.

And, by the way, for that reader out there who, if I didn't say this in the blog,  would have written, pointing out that the woman could have been artificially inseminated, like some lesbians do, and therefore might not have spread her legs for any man (so THERE!  HAH!!):  Listen up Pencil Dick ... artificial insemination is a myth, like that story that we sent those guys to the moon.  It doesn't really exist.  When they "artificially inseminate" a woman what they actually do is that they knock her out and the doctor, and all the interns, and the janitor and Uncle Bob all fuck the woman until there's sperm coming out of her ears.  Then they wait to see if she gets pregant and charge her fifteen thousand dollars.  OK?  So don't write and tell me that that gorgeous, sexy woman with the swollen belly I'm looking at got that way without a hot steamy sexual act taking place.  Don't be a jerk.

OK, now lets talk about the politically correct reason why most of us appreciate pregnant women.  

They represent the future of the planet, and hope for that future. They represent happy couples, and excitement about the birth and fresh starts in life.  They just make people feel good.  Everybody is nice to pregnant women.  Even biker dudes and gang bangers are nice to pregnant women.  It's a rule.  It's like the Intelligent Designer made this rule "You have to be nice to pregnant women!"  Or maybe it's an evolution thing.  We evolved to like round things that are soft, yet firm, because survival of the species depends on protection of pregnant women.  For whatever reason, they make us feel happy.  We're actually much happier than the pregnant woman herself.  Especially around months eight and nine.

The only people who aren't nice to pregnant women are sociopaths, who should be killed in the first place.  I mean why does society put up with anyone who will never become a functioning member of that society.  But that's another rant.  Back to the subject.

OK, now I want you to think back to the last newborn or nearly newborn baby you looked at, or held.  It was cute, right?  It doesn't matter what it's parents look like, as a baby it was cute.  All babies are cute.  It's another of those Intelligent Design rules.  Or, maybe babies evolved that way so their mothers don't thrown them in the bog.  I don't know why they're cute, but they are.   EVERYBODY loves tiny little babies.  They bring out hope in people. They are the future and they make us all feel good. Especially if they belong to someone else. We get to cuddle them and play with them and coo at them ... and then give them back to their mother when they cry or it's time for a diaper change.
 
So, remembering all of that, for people like me and a lot of readers out there who have what evil conservatives call a 'Pregnancy Fetish', which is anyone who gets off on pregnancy and sperm and eggs ........ we just celebrate the hopefulness of pregnancy a little sooner than those people who love babies. We find some special joy and pleasure in the creation of new life and the sexual act is the shrine at which we leave our offerings. It's not really kinky at all in that sense. It's the celebration of new life, and how that life is created.
 
Now I'll be the first to say that there are people on the planet who have no business being parents.  We aren't all equipped to drive fully functional and armed tanks.  We aren't all equipped to play professional volleyball.  We aren't all equipped to be coroners.  The list goes on and on.  Why would anyone think that we're all equipped to be decent parents?

And I'll be the first to admit that an unplanned pregnancy can ruin a life.  Or at least it can ruin a life that you let it ruin.  If your plans are more important than the future of the planet, then don't have unprotected sex.  That's for sure.  

And, I'll be the first to suggest that staying in the shallow end of the gene pool with your sister or daughter or mother or whatever is not likely to convince people that you really are equipped to be a good parent.

But I'll also be the first to write a fantasy about all those situations we don't want to chance in real life, but which are hot to think about.  And that's why I do it.  I like hope, and bright futures, and happy children, and loving parents and all those other things we have such a hard time finding in real life. And I like hot steamy sex, which, by the way, the Intelligent Designer put there for the purpose of ... having babies.   

So I put happy, healthy, successful eggs and sperm and pregnancies in my stories and a lot of readers out there celebrate new life with me.  

And you know the best part of all this?

I always know which women in my stories "Do it" and I know it BEFORE their bellies bulge.

Thanks for your support.
Bob
***************************************

3 Sep 05 - More anonymous idiots

I sometimes get lectured about parts of my stories that are "incorrect" or "not real".  For instance I was corrected by somebody in the medical field who said it impossible for a penis to penetrate through the cervix into the womb.  The fact that I, personally, have been able to penetrate my own wife's cervix with a finger suggests there may be different truths at work in the world.  I also got corrected by a female reader that cervical contact is painful and women don't like it.  The fact that, when I penetrate my own wife's cervix during foreplay makes her crazy horny suggests that not all women respond to stimuli the same.

That's OK.  Different strokes for different folks is my motto.

But when I get "corrected" by some idiot who is ignorant of stated facts ... well ... I'm old and cranky, right?

The latest correction came from another one of those people who won't leave a valid email address so I can respond directly.  This was in relation to my description of one of the women in "King Dong" getting so stuffed with sperm that it "flushed up into the fallopian tubes".

The comment was "Sperm in the fallopian tube is bad!"  

Now it is possible that this person is not really an idiot, but is only confused, and was referring to an Ectopic pregnancy, where the fertilized egg implants in the fallopian tube, instead of in the uterus, where it belongs.  Ectopic pregnancies are, in fact, bad.

But the fact of the matter is that MOST eggs are fertilized while they are still INSIDE the fallopian tube, and then they enter the womb, where they implant.

That means that sperm, inside the fallopian tube, is not only OK, but quite likely necessary for a pregnancy to take place.  When you're talking about single cells, the womb is a big place, and, my stories notwithstanding, the usual amount of sperm available to fertilize a tiny little egg in a great big uterus is not good odds for conception.  But, let those little swimmers get up into the fallopian tube, and they almost HAVE to bump into the egg as it comes down.

Now, the idiot I am referring to may not take my word for this.  Fine.  Here's one source of routine information for people who are trying to get pregnant.

http://www.babyworld.co.uk/information/trying/secretsofconception.asp

It says quite clearly that the egg is "usually" fertilized in the fallopian tube.  There are only sixty thousand other sites out there with the same information.

And, for all you gutless wonders out there who are quivering in your boots at the thought of the big bad author actually answering your mail ... get a Hotmail email account.  Use a fake name, like I do.  Then read your mail and you might not sound like an idiot any more.

Lovingly yours
B.O.B.
***************************************

21 Aug 05 - The confusion about who I really am

Some of you have written to Beating Off Bob, and been answered by Charles Lovely.  I know this confuses some of you, because you then address your mail to Charles.

Here's the deal.  If I had a pair, I would have established an email account with my real name, which is NOT Charles Lovely.  I would have authored my work under my real name, which is NOT Beating Off Bob.

But I don't have a pair.  Well, I do, but you know what I mean.  I wish to remain anonymous to some people who would take great delight in making my life very difficult on account of what I write about.

There is freedom of speech in America.  But there is also freedom to be a bigot in America.  Hence my anonymousness (is that a real word?).

So if you have to call me anything, just call me Bob.

Love and kisses
Charles (just kidding)
B.O.B.
***************************************

17 Aug 05 - My pen name, and the unhappiness it causes

I have received several messages from people who complain about my pen name. I can't see any other way to look at it. They say things like "I was put off by your name, but read one of your stories anyway..." and then they usually go on to say they liked the story.

And, this response has been received from pretty much equally men and women.

I wrote "Who The Hell Is Beating Off Bob" for this very reason ... to explain my philosophy of writing dirty stories, and to give a hint at WHY I write dirty stories. I also put something in my profile to do the same thing.

But I still get suggestions on what my name SHOULD be.

So I thought about this. I do not consider it a waste of time to think about things like this, seeing as how I don't have anything better to do with my spare time than write dirty stories and all.

And I think I have figured out what it's all about.

We like to be thrilled and titillated and think about taboo or just bad stuff. If you talked to a religious type person they'd say this is our sinful nature. They'd also tell us to STOP thinking about such things. You know ... JUST SAY NO! Or, in this application ... JUST THINK NOT!

We could get into a conversation about religion, but I don't think that would resolve anything. Suffice it to say that religion has a big impact on our society, whether you practice a religion or not.

Look at the kinds of stuff that sells: Sexy clothing, sex toys, internet porn, and Viagra or Cialis for men who can't get it up and appear in the commercials to only be about 32 or 33 at the most (and who, by the way, always seem to have a wife or partner who could get any man she wanted and wouldn't have to put up with a limp dick like him).

What else sells? Movie tickets about guys who carve up teenagers with a chain saw, umpteen versions of the vigilante who kills bad guys with impunity, movies with car crashes, movies with vampires, movies with explosions galore and, lately, movies where the terrorists not only die, but their cause fails too.

What else sells? Music about doing all kinds of unsavory things and about people who do unsavory deeds.

Now nobody ... OK, ALMOST nobody ... would suggest that we should REALLY go out and kill people, or blow up things, or crash cars while we chase bad guys.
 
On the other hand we'll pay good money to see the FANTASY of doing all those things, because we get off on it vicariously. We get to feel the feelings (what we THINK the feelings would be like) of doing those things, along with the hero in the movie, and its ... well it's just FUN ... a release of sorts.

And, while an argument can be made that watching such "garbage" can "make" somebody go out and copy what they saw, I'm not convinced. We've had a certain percentage of the population killing each other clear back to when you had to do it with a rock.

The OTHER argument for ALLOWING those fantasies to be played out on screen or in song is that it is quite possible that releaseing our inner tensions vicariously, while watching the FANTASY of it being done can actually be HEALTHY, in that it actually STOPS some of us from going out and doing it ourselves.

How many times have you heard a song and gone "THAT'S HOW I FEEL!" and then you DON'T go home and drive your truck into your cheating wife's house, or kill the guy who stole your woman, or wrecked your pickup or wrote you that ticket or something else?   But most of us don't think it would be healthy to DO all ... most ... or even any of the things we see and hear about on the screen or over the airwaves.

Now I, personally, also don't think that it's healthy to take erectile dysfunction drugs when we don't really need them or put sexy clothing on eight year olds, OR KNOCK UP TEENAGERS AND SISTERS AND AUNTS AND COUSINS or do most of the things you read about in my stories.

But the release of FANTASIZING about it and maybe BEATING OFF instead of actually having a sexual encounter with your niece that would most likely ruin your relationship with her? I think that is definitely more on the side of healthy release than it is on the side of "This causes incest!"

Hence the name "Beating Off Bob"

They're stroke stories, folks. That's all they are.

Most of you have seen porn tapes. And when you do you know exactly what's going to happen. She bats her eyes at him and takes her clothes off. He bares his studly equipment. They go through the parts of the Kama Sutra that everybody knows about, for hours, and then he pulls out and shoots on her stomach, tits or back so you know it's 'Real".

They're stroke material.

But once you've seen one, you've pretty much seen them all except for the few that actually have a plot. The ones you actually want to buy have a plot.

So I try to write my stroke stories with a little plot thrown in so they're different enough that you don't get bored. Yes, they are similar to each other. How many different ways can you re-print the Kama Sutra? And yes somebody always gets pregnant. That's my own personal kink.  But isn't pregnant better than mangled or dead?

But they're ALL just for beating off. Or maybe a little role play between consenting adults.

Now I told you I figured out why my name rubs people (no pun intended) the wrong way.

You see everybody in the whold WORLD masturbates.  But, everybody in the whole world is also told that masturbation will:

a. Drive you insane
b. Give you venereal disease
c. Make hair grwo on your palms (Yeah, I know, I looked at my palms too the first time I heard it.)
d. Make you go to Hell
e. Make your teeth fall out.
f. Make your hair fall out.  (I never could understand how it could make hair grow on your palms and fall out everywhere else.)
g. [Place your scare tactic here.]

And why are we told all this?  Because of religion.  Remember how I told you religion affects our society?  Even if you don't believe any of this stuff, some dim recess of your mind keeps telling you it's wrong.  

I think people would rather admit they were raped in prison than admit that they masturbate.  

So people hate my name, because my name is an admission that I do ... what everybody else in the world does.

And I write stories to help people do it.

So no, I'm not going to change my name.

When you read a B.O.B. story I WANT you to think of beating off.

But don't imagine me doing it. I'm old and fat and ugly. Oops. I just gave you too much information ... didn't I?
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15 Aug 05 -  Advice from the readers ... the double edged sword

I have a faithful and loyal reader we'll just call Troll.  He writes every time he reads a story.  He has a thing for cheerleaders, but that's not the point.  It has gotten so that he, and a number of other frequent readers, after chapter one or two of a story, write to tell me exactly what's going to happen in the rest of the story.  A number of other people write to me and tell me what SHOULD happen during the rest of the story.

Now I REALLY like reader feedback.  I get good ideas from readers, and I've written a number of stories based on an email from some anonymous reader.

But it can be a problem too.   

First, you have to understand that, before I post a story, I want to be sure that it meets my own standards.  The only way I know to do that is to write it, then let it sit for a little while, and then re-read it, making changes I think need to be made.  Then I do a final edit and make final changes.  Then I break it up into chapters, if it's long enough to do that.  Then I start posting chapters.

Now I know there are about eleventy people out there right now who are just horrified to know that.  Because that means that, while they were waiting with drool running out of their mouths for the next chapter to be posted ... it was already written and just sitting there, invisible, unposted, where they couldn't see it.  And I'm sure there are people out there who will call me bad names and say I should be flogged and stuff for teasing people and stringing them out.  Some folks might even accuse me of trying to pad my stats by making people click on one of my stories multiple times as they read each "new" chapter.

I'm not rambling here.  I'll get to my point in a minute.  The fact is that, no matter how long I make a story, I get mail from a hundred people who think it should be longer.  I get mail telling me I need to continue the story into the next generation. And, on some stories that might be a pretty good idea.  

But, what I have discovered is that people love to be teased ... as long as it's not too much.  They love a multi-part story.  They love to look forward to the next chapter.  They love to imagine what's going to happen.  And they love to tell me what they think is going to happen, or what they think should happen.

So I indulge those people by posting my chapters, which were already written and finished before I ever posted chapter one, by releasing a new chapter every other day or so.  That lets them be the masochists they seem to want to be, and gets the story posted in a reasonable period of time.

Here's where the double edge sword comes in.  Say I get mail from someone who says this or that should happen.  I don't want to burst his or her bubble, and I don't want to give away the ending, so I send back something noncommittal.  But suppose what they suggest really IS what's going to happen.  As soon as I post it they think I "took their advice" and wrote it that way because of their mail.

So, on the next story, they do the same thing, but this time the story goes in a whole other direction than what they thought should happen.  Now they're all pissed off at me!  Suddenly I'm ignoring their good advice.  I could EVEN lose a reader!  And that wouldn't be good, because there are only like ... eleventy of you!

So I am hereby busting myself right here in my blog.  If you are reading chapter one of something I wrote, I hate to admit it, but the whole story is probably in the can and has been for several weeks.  Once in a long long while I'll leave the ending until I've got it half posted, because reader feedback really IS important to me, and I like to give people the kinds of stories they like to read.  On two stories I didn't have an ending because I couldn't think of one, and I relied on readers to help me find one.

But not often.  

Maybe I'm just predictable or something, because a LOT of you are telling me what's going to happen and it ... really IS going to happen.  I am a sort of niche writer, so maybe that's not too surprising.  

But please ... if you give me a suggestion and it doesn't happen ... don't take it personally.  I have like fifty emails in my "projects" folder for when I get writer's block, and I dip in there to get an idea to write a NEW story.

Just thought you might want to know.

As always, thanks for reading.
B.O.B.
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15 Jul 05 - Anonymous feedback

Several people have sent me feedback lately that have erroneous or ficticious email addresses in the "from" box.  I cannot reply to them.  If you are one of those timid folks who thinks I can somehow track you down if you leave a valid address (which I can't - yesterday I couldn't spell computer ... today I write on one), I just wanted to say "Thanks for the comments."  None of them lately have been unkind.  If they were I'd refer you to my blog rant on random@random.net.  But they weren't, so thanks.
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14 Jul 05 - Women lighthouse keepers

When I posted "Uncle's Lighthouse" ( couldn't think of a snazzy name for this one) I got several emails from people who have visited some of the famous lighthouses on the eastern coast.  I also learned that there were at least three women who operated lighthouses and became famous for it, one of them even rowing a boat out to save people from ships that ran aground on the rocks.  And so, it seems that Laurie may very well grow up to operate the big Middleton Light.  Several people have asked for her story as an adult.  This will take some planning and some time.  So stay tuned and we'll see what happens.  Meanwhile, do a Google search on "Historic Lighthouses" and have some fun while you learn something.

One fascinating site about women lighthouse keepers is at http://www.nightbeacon.com/lighthouseinformation/articles/Women_Lighthouse_Keepers.htm

It's kind of hard to read because the colors conflict, but you'll see how many there were and what their duties were.

As always, thanks for reading.
B.O.B.
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6 Jul 05 - My lack of humility

With the posting of "Who The Hell Is B.O.B.?" I have opened that can of worms called "My my, he sure is proud of himself, isn't he?"  Now I wouldn't want you all to think I had a big head or anything, so here's the deal:  The forward about the Dirty Girls is true.  And I've gotten mail in the past that said things like "I have a sister and she's cute, maybe she'll do that with me."  So this story gave me an opportunity to wax philosophical (I majored in Philosophy) about how some things can be cool as a fantasy, that are rarely, if ever, cool as attempted reality.

    So I just wanted to kind of put my philosophy out there to hang in the wind, so to speak.

    And all that stuff in there about how hot my stories are?  People have actually said that!  I am NOT lying here!  I saved BOTH of those emails, and if you don't believe me I'll actually SEND them to you!
   
    As always, thanks for reading.
B.O.B.
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4 Jul 05 - My thanks to you

I want to thank everybody who participated in the Passion of Art story.  It was great fun writing it and then watching to see what you guys did.  

    Version Bravo was the most popular based on the number of downloads, with over eleven thousand.

    Version Charlie got the best score if you compare the scores of all four versions after two weeks (when everybody who was going to read them seemed to have done that).  

    Two of the other versions also scored very high until, within the space of two days, they dropped significantly.  So, either a whole bunch of people read them all at once and hated them all, or a whole bunch of people waited to vote until they were done reading them all (as I suggested) and then voted high for the one they liked and low for all the rest.  It was kind of fascinating watching things unfold.

     Now that they're done I'll explain the ending to version Bravo, which I got a LOT of mail about.  That ending was the one that required the reader to decide what happened.  

    I cut it off abruptly, on purpose, with just enough information so the reader knew that a number of things COULD happen.  

    I'm pretty sure it worked, because people wrote asking if this happened, or if that happened, or the other thing happened, and all those things were things from their imaginations.    If you read version Bravo, ask yourself what YOU thought MIGHT have happened ... and there's your ending.

     And finally, for all of you who wrote and said you liked this format, thank you and, yes, I'll probably do it again some day.  It's a lot of work and it's easy to make logical mistakes between the versions.  But it's also fun to do and even more fun to watch as you read them.

    Thanks again to all of you out there who make it worth the work.

B.O.B.
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30 Jun 05 - Cause I'm a bleeding Yank ... OK?

I've gotten a lot of mail pointing out that, in "Jungle Virgins - The Barrister's Trial" I have messed up because only a solicitor would deliver papers.  Barristers (sometimes, apparently spelled barristors) go to court and defend clients and so on.  I had already addressed that in chapter two, which wasn't posted yet, but I figured I'd better say something here because people are really upset about this.
So here was my thought process:  I couldn't say "The Solicitor's Trial" because solicitors DON'T GO to trial.  I wanted "Trial" in the title, because of the play on words.  So, in my story, the firm sent the barrister on this mission to get her killed off.  She stooped to lowly solicitor business because she thought it would be a lark.

If you're still upset about it, please remember ... I'm a Yank.  What did you expect?
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26 Jun 05 - Why I write so much about pregnancy

A reader wrote to me the other day and asked what several people have asked:  "Why do you mess up all your stories with pregnancy.  I can't get into the story with all the worries about unwanted pregnancies and the complications of pregnancy and how it messes up people's lives."

Well, here's why:

The pregnancy stuff is my own personal kink.  In real life we worry about pregnancies and all the problems they (can) cause and concerns they (can) raise.  But I write FANTASY, where everything is OK and nobody is unhappy and all pregnancies work out because it's FANTASY.
 
I have an old saying.  "Casual, meaningless sex is nothing more than complicated masturbation."    

So I don't write about people having casual meaningless sex.  Instead, I write about situations I WISH could be real, and that would not ruin lives and so on and so forth.
 
So, my advice to the guys out there who quit reading because they're 'worried' about the pregnacy issue is:   Chill out.  These are not blueprints for your future, they're just stories for fun, movies without pictures, fluff of the most insubstantial kind.  Have fun knocking somebody up on paper and save your concerns for real life.
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21 Jun 05 - random@random.net

Some guy who uses Random@random.net as an anonymous mailer complained that my description of cell behavior in the "Passion Of Art" series is childish and sounds like a "deranged fetishist".  I couldn't answer him because he doesn't have the guts or character to leave a valid email address.  He's a gutless whiner who has his own fetish for sniping at writers, which is why he can recognize deranged fetishists so easily.  So here is my answer for him (her/it) and for anybody else who thought the same thing.  

My description of eggs and sperm are an attempt at humor.  Apparently it didn't work for you.

This part is just for random:  I AM a fetishist, as are most people who read at this site.  I AM deranged.  What smut writer isn't?  If you don't like what I write, don't read it.  You have thousands of other choices.
 
And get some hair, wimp.