Phases

Phases are interesting things, especially if you’re like me. My phases--just ask my family--are intense. Bordering-on-but-not-quite-neurotic intense. Consequently, I consider myself quite the little expert on phases. In fact, I know all the types. Please, avail yourself of my vast, but pointless, knowledge of the subject...

Fleeting Phases:

These are the sorts of phases that seem promising at first, then simply don’t prove that interesting. You know, like that hobby that you buy a lot of tools to support, only to lose interest before those tools are barely dirty. Mine was homebrewing. I made two batches of beer, then decided this was what liquor stores and the descendants of Herrs Pabst, Miller and Busch were for.

On a topic more relevant to this blog, I’d say Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn. I loved him in the first "Lord of the Rings" movie, but then I saw David Wenham as Faramir in the second film and the Viggo thing was o-vah. (And whatever happened to Joshua Jackson? Talk about flash in the pan.)

Intense, Quick Burn Out Phases:

These are those fascinations which start out super hot but inexplicably don’t last. There may not even be a clear reason why they are unsustainable, and it really surprises you considering their original promise. A year or so ago I nursed a craving for months to take up the Native American flute. I finally bought one. I was so excited! I sewed a Native American themed bag for it, I practiced almost every day, I really liked it and then, foomp.

Erotically speaking, my example would be Criss Angel. I watched him a bit on TV and my mind was just blown. I collected some photos, used him as wallpaper, blogged about him, had some nice Criss fantasies, and then, abruptly, nothing. I know plenty of women have been hot on this guy for years. I can’t explain why I petered out!

Recurring Theme Phases:

These are variations on a theme, and we all have our own individual themes, sometimes called “fetishes,” those sorts of things we have been consistently attracted to all our lives. I grew up loving to collect rocks. I can’t resist combing a beach, any beach. (I’ve even been known to comb gravel beds at shopping malls.) I got into making jewelry largely because I love rocks. And now I use polymer clay to make rocks!

Meanwhile, my erotic obsessions have included variations on a couple of good physical themes. Blond beards, for example. A big part of my afore-mentioned Faramir thing, and also traceable to personal heartthrobs Kerry Wood, the Kohls guy, and Jason Danieley (although with him it’s really the voice of course). I’m also historically crazy about guys with tousled mops of dark curls. This accounts for why Elijah Wood’s Frodo came in second on my list of favorite LOTR characters. And it may have been one of my husband’s cues when he found the picture of this author named Neil Gaiman and showed it to me as “a guy who is really your type.” So, point is, specific men may come and go, but the blond beard and the dark curls live on (not on one person at once though, ugh).

Take Your Soul in an Iron Grip Phases:

Well, there are a few of these in my life, obsessions I picked up in childhood that never go away. First for me is, of course, writing. Others would be Broadway musicals, science fiction (I should mention that obviously I went through a very passionate “Rocky Horror Show” phase), cats, and crafts.

I’ve had some men-phases like this too, guys who come into my life and make such a big impression that even after the “romantic” feelings eventually dissipate, I never lose the impact that was made upon me. The first example of this is Michael Rennie’s portrayal of the alien Klaatu in “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” I was just a tot when I first saw this film, and the character shaped ever after both my ideal of the fictional hero and my standards for male valor. I rewatched the movie this week and Klaatu still works as much magic on me today as ever. (Good luck, Keanu Reeves!)

I would be remiss not to mention here Montreal Canadiens coach Guy Carbonneau, whose tribute website I maintain (now over 300 pages). He was a huge inspiration (or, okay, I’ll also answer to “obsession”...I mean c’mon, 300 pages?) to me for a good three years, and that’s a long time for this girl. To this day he remains a personal hero and an example of real manhood that few can match.

Impact Your Life Phases:

Some phases may not last for years, but they still make an impression that lingers for a lifetime. In the 80s I was so obsessed with pipe organs that I actually wrote a three minute piece for pipe organ. Well, it was performed publically once, okay? Yeah, yeah, only once. Nevertheless, I still love organ music and appreciate composing in a much deeper way from that experience.

My devotion to “Survivorman” Les Stroud is definitely in this category. I still adore Les but I’m a bit past the swooning stage now. However, he truly affected my understanding of my own love of nature, and taught me much about survival, even of the emotional kind. These lessons will stay with me. And then there’s Neil Gaiman. It’s only been ninth months (and I’m still in the swooning stage as you well know)...but reading the lion’s share of his works has rekindled in me my Jungian outlook on writing and my love of speculative fiction/fantasy. And best of all, if you’re me: I know reading him has made me a better writer. God, I love that man.

Bonus Type--Motivate You to Write a Fan Letter Phases:

I consider a phase as having special standing if it motivates me to write a fan letter. Even in the days of the internet, when doing that is much easier and much more likely to get some sort of reply, I still only write when a phase strikes me as significant. Here’s a list of people who have merited fan letters from me over the years (and whether or not I heard back): Leonard Nimoy as Spock (no), the cast of the movie “Godspell,” (yes, Joann Jonas), Sting (no), Kenneth Branagh (no), Richard O’Brien, author of “Rocky Horror” (yes), Guy Carbonneau (yes), comic book author Terry Moore (no), Les Stroud (yes), Jason Danieley (yes). Wow, that’s a pretty good track record...I must be forgetting a lot of the people who ignored me! LOL

Cripes, this is my longest blog post EVER. Good night.

Let’s Talk Addictions

I was blessed to be born without a propensity for addiction. (My first husband was the opposite sort, so I’m fairly familiar with the traits of an addictive personality.) So I’m a poor candidate for alcoholism, obsessive gambling, chronic shoplifting, and their ilk.

But those of us resistant to those hardcore kinds of addictions still have our little, fairly harmless ones. When you get right down to it, all of us have some things we’d really rather not have to live without.

Dr. House has Vicodin, David Duchovy has (had?) sex, Mythbusters Jamie and Adam have blowing-stuff-up.

My daughter Katie has hanging-on-to-things, my other daughter Manzi has Hitchcock movies, my husband has talk radio.

Our cats Selke, Alice and Cody have, respectively, scraps of paper, fleece clothing (to eat, not wear), and salad dressing.

And me? Well, here’s my current top ten list of addictions:

10. Olives (all colors).
9. 80’s music.
8. Guys with blond beards.
7. Tracking my web traffic and book sales.
6. Anything written by Neil Gaiman.
5. Potato chips.
4. Watching old “House, MD” episodes.
3. Cubs baseball (six months of withdrawal, coming right up!).
2. The Internet.
1. Writing about love and sex.

Happily for me, it would seem that reading about love and sex is on a lot of people’s Top Ten Addictions lists. This past week I saw that happen in a couple of interesting ways.

First of all, there’s my Google Books tracking. (Yeah, I warned you about me and tracking!) I get reports every day on how many of my books are viewed on Google Books, that neat new service that lets you search by word through bizillions of books. I also get reports on the number of pages viewed. Now a person can’t read every page in a book on Google books, but from the tracking I can tell that a lot of people do a search, find one of my collections, and end up reading all the pages Google Books lets you. The average person reads five to fifteen pages.

Google Books doesn’t tell me the search terms, but I can just imagine, based on the terms that lead people to my website and this blog. So...some person is google-book-searching on “candlelight bound slave auction” or “erotic she was brought from the harem to the king's quarters” or “rain shelter blanket arousal nipple” (I swear, these are terms people have actually used to find me). And she or he turns up one of my books, and reads a page. And keeps reading, for fifteen minutes till the Google preview ends. Aha! Hooked!

Secondly, I had a really fun, rare experience this past week. Someone bought my book Bloodchained in ebook format from my online store one night. The next day she bought Soulful Sex Volume I. Two days later she bought Soulful Sex: The Fantasy Collection. This woman is one fast reader! And imagine how I feel to find someone can’t wait another day to read another of my books! A person could get addicted to that feeling pretty easily. LOL

Well, I guess for the truly-not-addictive personalities like most of us, there’s a fine line between enjoyment and wanting not to go more than 24-hours without the thing. You gotta try not to let the latter get the better of you when it matters. But most days, it’s not a big problem if I watch a couple episodes of “House” while eating a few chips...and it’s never a problem if I want to write about love and sex.

One Hot Baseball Club

It’s high time I put up an entry like this one, for it’s been awhile since I began noticing something interesting: The Chicago Cubs are possibly the hottest team in baseball. And I’m not referring to the fact that (as of this writing) they have the best record in baseball.

However, I suppose it’s possible that I’m biased. They are my team, after all. So I thought I’d put the boys out here for you to judge. Give them a quick review, and if you think your team can match them in hotness, please comment and let me know! Especially if you have photos to back up your claim.

So, without further ado, let’s start with the position players for the Chicago Cubs:

At first base, the tall, lanky, classically handsome Derrek Lee.

At second, showing off his fab physique, ruggedly delicious Mark DeRosa (Manzi’s favorite).

Playing shortshop, and possibly the team’s dreamiest player (check out the eyes), Ryan Theriot.


At third base, Katie’s guy, the adorable Aramis Ramirez.


And catching, All Star rookie Geovany Soto…what killer eyelashes, hey? Sigh.

I have a strong opinion the Cubs infield beats all comers, hands down. But now let’s take a look at the outfielders.

We have in left field, home run hero (here looking like a model), Alfonso Soriano.


Playing at center, and competing admirably in the rugged category, Jim Edmonds.

Jim’s alternate in centerfield, and quirkily hot in his little beard, Reed Johnson.


And in right field, Manzi’s other fave, handsome rookie Kosuke Fukudome.


Let’s not forget our two most often-used utility guys. There’s Mike Fontenot, here showing off one of the forearms that make my daughters squeal.


And there’s Ronny Cedeno, just too cute for words.


Now, on to the pitchers. The Cubs have the rare claim of having a rotation of five good-looking starters. We have...

Former closer and this year’s new ace, the hilarious, charming, and swoonworthy Ryan Dempster.


Cubs co-ace, and the league’s best slugging pitcher, here’s the dashing Carlos Zambrano.


Our newest addition to the starters group, super cute and amazingly talented Rich Harden.


Not to be outdone, the fine-looking fellow who got us a win for our annual trip to Wrigley, Ted Lilly.


And showing off that irresistible smile, here’s #5 pitcher Jason Marquis.


I won’t put our entire bullpen on display here (although a girl could do worse), but representing the middle relievers, we have newest rookie and total heartthrob, Jeff Samardzija.


And last, but to my mind first, my own fave Cub—our awesome closer, Kerry Wood.


Okay I single-double-triple-homer-dog-dare you to top this lineup, peeps. They may or may not go far in the playoffs, they may or may not bring home the first World Series win in 100 years, but they will definitely look good doing it!

On Nice Guys and Nasty Muses

What a week it’s been! The top story in the state of Wisconsin has been Brett Favre’s battle with the Packers. The top story in Diana Laurenceville has been that I completed two stories in the same day for the first time ever. These events are an interesting juxtaposition, I must say.

I have been struggling all week with the urge to blog about Favre, while keeping in mind that in the blogosphere, as at parties, it’s best to remember “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” The last thing I want to do is pick on any folks out there who adore this guy and are currently struggling with the possibility of having to rethink their opinions. It hasn’t been that long since I went through something similar. I dedicated my book Living Beyond Reality to a certain hockey goaltender who subsequently indulged in a lot of irresponsible living and got booted from my personal pantheon.

But the talk around Wisconsin has largely boiled down to one issue, that famous quote from Vince Lombardi: “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” I’ve realized that if you truly hold to that, then Favre is definitely your man. (Well, not definitely, he’s not young anymore, nor infallible.) If you don’t hold to that, not even in sports, then you may be like me. Favre has never been my man, as my annoyed but forgiving Packer fan friends will tell you. I love Kerry Wood for his 20K rookie game, and for his being possibly the NL’s best closer, but I also loved him during the time he was hurt and when he loses a game in the ninth. He’s a team-first guy, the kind who takes a pay cut when another team would pay him more, the kind who is grateful just to play in whatever capacity the team needs him.

In real life I like my men like that. And it always irks the pants off me when men who fail to be heroic are counted as heroes. But people have different standards for what constitutes a hero—you have yours and I have mine—and no person can dictate those standards to another.

While I have been spending the week being grateful for my real life heroes, people like Kerry, and Peyton Manning, and Les Stroud, and the awesome dancers and choreographers on “So You Think You Can Dance,” the opposite has been going on regarding my writing inspiration….

I’ve discovered I do best with a muse who has an evil streak.

I won’t reiterate the same points I’ve been making about my imaginary Neil Gaiman (it’s got to be getting a little nauseating by now). But I just wanted to relate how amazingly effective it seems to be when my animus-bearer of choice has that sinister side. For one thing, the ending he provided me once I turned over my Romeo and Juliet story to him…well, it was perfect. I couldn’t abide a happy ending to it, nor did I want it to be tragic in the way the original play was. I struggled with that for weeks, but apparently it was easy for him. You’ll have to wait for the book to find out how it ends, but suffice it to say the ending is unhappy but somehow very cool.

And the other story, “Don’t,” flowed more or less piecemeal from the imagination of my imaginary friend. I can’t remember the last time I wrote anything so fast. I hope someone other than me likes it, because I really like it!

Lest you think that the sinister muse is only useful for the writers among us, I have found myself enjoying life more in general since he lit upon my shoulder. It kind of feels like being in love, without the annoying problem of another person being involved. LOL

I’ve had a lot of animus-bearers over the years, some of them knights in shining armor, some of them mysterious shaman types, and some of them the sorts of characters who on a certain level scared me. Just like crushing on a “bad boy” can be energizing and thrilling, having a muse who you don’t completely trust seems to really stir up your soul. Oh, and while I’m lauding my animus/muse: He also handed me the plot of my next story as I was finishing the other two, so next up from my keyboard will be the contemporary tale “‘Kiss Me’ and Other Commands.”

So here’s the principle under which I’m operating this summer: For best results, surround yourself with good guys on the outside, and one morally ambiguous guy on the inside.

And would you believe the radio is playing “The Devil Inside” as I type this? (See http://eroticawithsoul.blogspot.com/2008/04/me-and-my-shadow.html). And that’s the second time this has happened while I was blogging on this topic…shiver.

My Cubs Crush: Kerry Wood

Yes, if you are not into baseball or are a Brewers, Cardinals, or White Sox fan, feel free to bail on reading this post right now. For I am about to indulge myself and rhapsodize about my favorite Chicago Cub, current closing pitcher Kerry Wood.

I was first drawn to Kerry a few years back for several reasons of varying silliness. In the pretty silly category: I am a sucker for blond guys with beards. Also, I loved the look in his eye when he’d watch the catcher for the signs.

In the not-so-silly category--and see also my post on my awe fetish--Kerry is a talented guy. In May of 1998, when I was obsessed with hockey and two months into my total fixation on Guy Carbonneau, Kerry Wood made the sports headlines in a big way. So big that this hockey fan actually read about him--a baseball player! Kerry struck out 20 batters in a game at Wrigley Field against the Houston Astros. It was only his sixth outing in the majors and he was 20 years old. The 20K performance tied the all-time major league record. I never forgot who Kerry was. When I became a Cubs fan in 2003, I fell for this illustrious starter with his mean fastball and ability to occasionally hit home runs.

The road since then has been a rocky one. Kerry has been plagued by injuries and it’s seemed to me he spent more time on the disabled list than pitching. Many a time I have asked myself why having recovered from crushing on a sports guy about to retire (M. Carbonneau) I chose a sports guy who was always hurt. I did, however, have the good fortune to go to a game at Wrigley in 2006 after which a bunch of players greeted fans in the parking lot. I got within a couple yards of my hero. Nevertheless, it hasn’t been easy for me to get to see him pitch over the years.

Kerry won a spot in the bullpen in 2007 and enamored himself all the more to me by signing a one year contract that (by MLB standards) was astonishingly cheap. He felt he owed this to the Chicago Cubs for having been injured for so much of his career. He missed two-thirds of the season (argh!) but returned to pitch in relief really well the final months. He signed a new contract with the Cubs for 2008, turning down more lucrative deals from other teams, enamoring me even more! Kerry is now the longest-standing active player for the Cubs, as loyal to the team as are its crazy fans.

In spring training 2008, Kerry earned the closer role. This job is plenty sexy and plenty scary. I hate it when the win depends on Kerry getting three guys out...because sometimes he doesn’t. Fortunately, hardly ever: he currently has 14 saves in 18 chances. We joke that if Kerry hits the first batter, we’re doomed, but if he doesn’t, he’ll get the save. As for plenty sexy: There’s nothing like watching him destroy three guys with his 96 mph fastball and then step down from the mound to the shouts of “Cubs win!” with the faintest smile on his face, as if he doesn’t want to look too conceited.

Kerry Wood is not a superhero though, really. Some days he is on, some days off, like any professional player. That said, he is still one of the best in the game and does plenty of things to make me proud. And fortunately, in terms of character he is “on his game” every single day. He’s charitable, a team player, loyal, and good-hearted.

That look he gets before letting loose with an unhittable pitch doesn’t hurt either, nor does the blond beard. Kerry Wood is my Cubs Crush, and if no goats or Steve Bartman’s get in the way, maybe this fall he’ll be part of a World Series team.

Champagne in the blond beard wouldn’t hurt either.