Quote of the Day: Me

"'Hello,' says the waterboarder to the whale." -- from my novel-in-progress, Happy

Porn Scribe Sez Snuff Sucks

Veteran porn scribe Gene Ross reviews Chuck Palahniuk's new novel Snuff with the jaundiced eye of a man who has seen a thing or two or 2000 in the real porn industry and delivers a resounding thumbs down.

"But in Palahniuk’s novel titled 'Snuff,' fiction, it seems, is stranger and, apparently, a whole lot better than truth. Such is the basic fact - that most of what Palahniuk writes about here, bears little resemblance to what you’d come across in the real porn world.

If that’s the case, why should we quibble about minor details getting in the way of a good story, you might ask? Well, for Doubleday to cash in on a really bad, tedious book with Palahniuk’s name attached to it, for one thing. Although I've yet to come across a review that hasn't gone out of its way to kiss Palahniuk's ass which was one of my reasons, aside from the obvious, for grabbing a copy to begin with.

Or put it this way. If some Joe Blow nobody had submitted this idea, the publishing company would have been firing off rejection slips faster than premature ejaculation."

Heh. That was a good one, Gene. My review and commentary.

BTW, Snuff is #52 on Amazon.

Blogs You Should Be Reading: The Panther in Pumps

If you read this blog via RSS, you miss things. Recently, I've been selecting a Reverse Cowgirl Site of the Week.

This week's entrant is The Panther in Pumps, and the blog's subtitle says it all: "Once I was creeping into your hotels and houses for the titty-peek private shows, now it's the twenty dollar per song hustle. Welcome to the club scene."

These days, when sex worker blogs are spreading like herpes at an orgy, the best ones stand out above the rest. In special cases, real working girls tell the complicated truths about their hardcore lives.

Blogging under the name Fifty-One-Fifty, a term you may be familiar with if you spend too much time following the life of Britney Spears (like, um, I do), one woman in heels draws her readers into a world where That Metal Chick steals the show, Slick Trouble keeps his eyes on the girls, and a strip club becomes a slaughterhouse.

She writes: "A club is a slaughterhouse. A house with no floor, no bottom, only a ceiling. There are no windows. Survival depends on knowing the rules, knowing the game, but regardless, I still expect to find a loose intestine on the lounge. A stray heart on the bar. Someone's guts strung all over tipping rail."

Here's what I wrote in my review: "It's the kind of stripper blog you don't take home to mother. This blogger is one straight-shooter, a writer who dances, doesn't blink or flinch, and exposes the true stories of life on the other side of the tipping rail. 'I'm trying to find some secret, some hidden clue to either my success or demise as a sex worker, as a human being...'"

Somebody get her a book deal.

Smut Is Here

Recently, I got my contributor's copy of Smut: Volume 1 in the mail. It includes a short story I wrote, "The First Time She Died While Having Sex," and other tales by writers ranging from Aimee Bender to Jerry Stahl. I really liked Alicia Erian's "The Doctor Is In" and Catherine Texier's "A War Journal." They were unexpected. The book's cover is a beautiful shot by Siege and starring the lovely Lambchop. So go buy it.

When Dorothy Surrenders

In very late 2005, I decided, for a variety of reasons, that I would write a proposal for a book on porn. By January of 2006, I had done just that. I sent queries to a wide variety of agents, and, ultimately, ended up with an agent for the book. He was a good guy with a strong background, one of those mensch types who lives in Brooklyn and works for the most part with creative nonfiction writer types. While my original proposal had hung the book on the Bush administration's "War on Porn," my agent at that time suggested this concept was unwise considering Bush would be out by the time the book would be in stores. Instead, we decided the proposal would take a more wide-angle look at Porn Valley and its industry. So, I set about rewriting the proposal, an effort that became extremely protracted, the highlight of which was probably the point at which said agent suggested the proposal was too "bukkake-centric." Over a year later, after I had rewritten the proposal several times, I began to suspect that something was off in my matching with this agent. Whatever the reason, the collaboration was not resulting in a completed manuscript. At that point, in, as I recall it, early 2006, I decided to find another agent, one who, I hoped, would help me create a book proposal on porn that might sell in the market. So, I set about looking for another agent. Eventually, I found one, a passionate, smart woman at a well-respected and well known agency. By this point, I had created a new book proposal with a new angle that was more radical in its thesis statement. To deem it politically incorrect would be an understatement. Relatively quickly, and without too much fuss, my new agent and I worked this new book proposal into a state that both of us liked. And, in October of 2006, out the book proposal on porn went to a slew of editors in the publishing industry, ranging from the big names to the young turks. Then, the responses started rolling in. No. No thank you. And also, no thanks. In my favorite one, a high profile editor at a high profile imprint passed, appreciating the commercial promise of the book but apologizing for his deep-rooted Puritan influences, describing himself as notoriously prudish, and stating he would have to leave this project to those editors whose values were less influenced by the radical Protestant movements of the 16th and 17th centuries. Some editors were interested, but they were unable to sell their peers on the project. After passing through the hands of over two dozen editors, a group described by both agents as impossible to shock, the proposal never sold. Some didn't care for the project. Some didn't believe people would buy a book about porn with so much free porn on the internet. One pronounced I wasn't famous enough. Finally, after several weeks and two rounds of editors, I read the writing on the wall and decided to move on to other projects. After that, I came to the conclusion that while a book on porn might not sell, perhaps a stunt memoir that would take me across America exploring the sex industry and what it says about America would. With a new proposal in hand, I approached a famously aggressive agent. Initially, he expressed interest, but, after a rewrite, he, too, passed. And that's when, after two years of proposals, agents, and editors, I decided to give it all up. Now, it's dark outside, and I'm tired. I'm listening to Cocoon, and I'm trying to figure out what to do next.

Smut: Volume 1

I've got a short story in a new book, Smut: Volume 1, from the editors at Nerve and published by Chronicle Books. "Finally, erotica you'll still respect in the morning. The first in a series of annual anthologies, Smut presents 22 pieces of Nerve.com's most talked-about fiction. More fearless, forthright, and provocative than typical 'erotica' and less blockheadedly masculine than your standard 'pornography,' Smut collects cliché-shattering stories from some of today's most talented writers. In the hands of celebrated authors such as Robert Olen Butler, Aimee Bender, A. M. Holmes, Jay McInerney, and Alice Sebold, seductive entanglements become not only salaciously steamy, but finely wrought. It's literature of the highest order: intelligent, undeniably hot, and in a package to die for. Really, what more could a person ask for in bed?" The cover of the book features the photography of Clayton Cubitt. The story that I contributed is called "The First Time She Died While Having Sex."

The fifth time she died while having sex, it was the last time, for, my God, she was an old woman now, and she had done so many things, and she had been with the same man for so many years, when, because of sex, they had been ticketed by the police for making love in a car parked near the ocean, and, because of sex, she had given birth to their children holding his hand, and, because of sex, they had refused, through these yawning years, to ever let each other go, and he had grown old, here, beside her, as she had, and they had watched each other's bodies slide down their fronts, at first, gasping in horror, then admiring the great slow landslides they were, for it was beautiful, really, to watch somebody you loved in the nude, having dodged cancer, and softly pruned, it was a gift, so, over time, the sex had become something else altogether, from what it had once been, between them, for it was no longer about the way they did it, or how much they did it, or how well they did it, it was about how they could not not do it, they could not let each other go, they could not bear to be parted, and, in the sex, they held on to one another, through the years, and the wars, and the changes of the guard, and she was in his arms, having sex, but not having sex at all, really, when she died, and she didn't mind it at all, not a bit, actually, because she knew, even when she did so, he would never let her go.

Bang Bang

This morning, I finished my new book proposal. I sent it to two agents and queried three others. I'm fucking tired. (image via CinemaCowgirl)

Of Porn and Men IV

Via email: "I'm a man. A very ordinary, commonplace non-weird man. I have had experiences, history, and evolving attitudes with porn. I wouldn't mind sharing. It is a thing that many women seem to have a very hard time understanding or relating to. And that men are rather scared to talk about. I look forward to your book. I would suggest that we don't need much more info on the porn-valley production end, but a lot more on the consumer end. Which is difficult to get, and is a topic full of lies and disinformation and political agendas of many stripes."

Of Porn and Men III

In PORN, bad men do what good men dream. In the 21st century, porn is a man's heart of darkness, the elephant in every guy's bedroom that exposes who he really is, a funhouse mirror reflection of his deepest, darkest fantasies about himself. When it comes to sex, men can't hold back their demons. In porn, those demons are unleashed--no matter how politically incorrect or provocative, misogynist or sexist, inspired or insane they are. In porn, men aren't bad--they're just, well, men. In porn, men speak the secrets that they keep from others and themselves.

Of Porn and Men II

PORN will take me across the United States. I'll start in Porn Valley. From there, I'll visit Chicago, Illinois, Detroit, Michigan, New York, New York, Washington, DC, Chapel Hill, North Carolina, Tupelo, Mississippi, Austin, Texas, Scottsdale, Arizona, Las Vegas, Nevada, and many other points in between. I'll be talking to men about porn.

Of Porn and Men

About a month ago, I dumped my agent. It wasn't working. After that, I dumped my book proposal. It wasn't working, either. Then, I started all over. I retitled the book. The new title is PORN. This time around, the book is about porn--and men. A long time ago, I was a book publicist for an imprint of Simon & Schuster. The job was boring and dull and involved the promotion of books that were boring and dull authored by writers who were boring and dull. But my boss taught me something I never forgot. She was of the opinion writers don't write about what they know. Writers write about what they don't know. Now I'm nearly done. The proposal is very provocative. It is my monster child. Soon, I'll send it to a potential agent who has expressed interest--and then, we'll see.

Only This Perverse Fantasy Can Still Save Me

Today, I finished by book proposal and sent it to my agent. Now, I wait.