The Spark is Gone -- Should You Move On?

Of all my blog posts, none is so popular as “How to Get Over a Crush” (not even the one I did about Erin eSurance, LOL). It’s obvious this problem plagues a good portion of the population.

One of the commenters on the post raised a very good question last week, and I promised to address it with its very own post. Rachele told me about her crush on a work associate and her temptation to leave her long-time boyfriend for the man. The problem? She’s lost the romantic feelings for her boyfriend, even though she knows he loves her. But Rachele is no dummy; she recognizes that she may be chasing a dream that can never be realized.

I’m a fiction writer, not a psychologist, but you can bet I have a few things to say about Rachele’s situation. So at the risk of attracting lovelorn googlers in droves once again, I will share them with you.


Anyone can figure out that a person you don’t know as well as you know your partner can be misleadingly attractive. If s/he has enough traits that appeal to you, your romantic imagination will fill in the blanks with all kinds of irresistible qualities. Your mate, on the other hand, is very much a known quantity. You know all about his/her flaws. You’ve discovered the incompatibilities. The mystery is gone, you can’t help but take each other for granted, and you wonder if you should trade for a new model.

It may actually be possible that the new person has opened your eyes to the shortcomings of your current relationship. You may indeed have settled for less, or gotten involved for the wrong reasons, or truly grown apart. The important thing is mentally to set aside the new guy or gal, eliminate them from the decision-making process, and take a clear-headed look at the pros and cons of what you have.

The litmus test for a good, “keeper” relationship is not “spark.” Feelings of romance, adulation, and raging sexual attraction are wonderful (I should know, I write that stuff), but they are not requirements for long-term love. In fact, familiarity inevitably dims them.

Instead, look at your partner and ask yourself these ten questions:

1. Does s/he make sacrifices for you? Is the relationship one of fair give-and-take?

2. Is s/he honest, loyal, trustworthy, faithful? (That sort of person is not as commonplace as you think.)

3. Is s/he reliable, dependable, there for you even when it’s not pleasant to be so?

4. Does s/he respect you, bolster your self-esteem, treat you well in the presence of others?

5. Does s/he support you in your personal goals and believe in your ability to achieve them?

6. Do you share a similar (or mutually respectful) attitude about important issues like religion, politics, family values, having or not having children?

7. Is it typical, when the challenges of life don’t interfere, for you to enjoy being together doing just about anything?

8. Do you have a reasonable amount in common, shared interests and tastes? And for those you don’t share, do you take an interest just for the sake of the other one?

9. Can you communicate effectively in spite of your personality differences, especially when mutual understanding takes some effort? Are you both willing to put in that effort?

10. Do you have a mutually satisfying physical relationship? (This has nothing to do with any perception of “normal” or “average”; all that matters is that you are both content.)

I have had one marriage that was sorely lacking in nearly all these areas, and one that succeeds in all ten, so I know whereof I speak. My current marriage is not perfect, and yes, there was a rocky time when I was even tempted like Rachele. But enough of the ten areas were strong and healthy that it was worth it to work on those that needed improvement. On the other hand, in my first marriage (which scored about a 1 out of 10), there absolutely wasn’t enough to work with.

In my humble opinion, if you examine your current relationship and find most of these areas to be healthy, you shouldn’t throw over your partner no matter how thrillingly attractive the new person appears to you. You have a solid thing going. It may not always be exciting, vibrant, and exhilarating, but if you switch to the new love-object, in a few years (or even months) he or she will likewise lose that luster.

And the day will come soon enough, believe me, when having a caring, trustworthy, devoted best friend will mean a lot more to you than having a partner in heated romance.

For the latter, I recommend fantasy and fiction. Which brings us back to my real job. :-)

The Cynical Goody-Goody and Her Men

I suppose this is as good a topic as any for Christmas Week....

A new visitor to this blog might not expect this of the author of a blog with “erotica” in the title, but anyone who knows me at all is well aware: I am a total goody-goody. Yes, even about sex, which I really want to be wholesome and healthy all the time. While I’m anything but perfect (I could list dozens of faults for you, but that would not be Christmas-y, LOL), I am also a ridiculously upstanding citizen. I have fears of and/or aversions to drugs, drunkenness, breaking the rules (even jaywalking), sexual perversions, cruelty in any form, etc.

Meanwhile, I harbor no illusions that reality is a safe or comfortable haven for goody-goodies, as must as I wish it were so. You see, I grew up influenced equally by Rodgers & Hammerstein musicals and the terrible headlines of the late 60’s. I love books and movies with happy endings, but I’ve found very few people in real life who behave anything like the fictional characters I idolize. I spent 15 years married to a gay man who (understandably really) was unfaithful to me for all of them. Meanwhile, I am now married 15 years to a man who has been faithful to me for all of them.

Life has certainly sent me a mixed message.

I am not really changing topics now, as you will see shortly.

My regular readers know that I spent a lot of months quite devotedly fixated with Neil Gaiman. Certainly that wasn’t the only crush upon which I’ve expounded here, but probably the one you could most thoroughly study were you interested enough to go back to all the posts (and who would be? LOL).

So what happened with that? Well, as always happens, I eventually saw enough about him that I didn’t like, and my infatuation died. Don’t get me wrong, I still admire (and one might even say am still in love with) the genius qualities about the man. I certainly adore his work. but I couldn’t sustain the romance with those faults just so up-in-my-face. The emotions went dormant...they only come out occasionally when they are directed toward an utterly imagined version of Neil that is obviously all my concoction.

I recognize that it is neither fair nor reasonable for me to withhold my infatuations from less-than-perfect guys. I know all about real life and real people. But I just can’t help it. When the guy I crushed on all freshman year was snide in the way he signed my yearbook, I was devastated. I’ve reacted likewise to idols who have (1) gotten arrested for public drunkenness, (2) “defected” to another sports team, (3) been caught using drugs, (4) treated their fans coldly, (5) divorced their wives for other women, etc. (I’m not referring to Tiger Woods here, but you can guess my opinion of him.)

Christmas is a very romantic time to my mind. Just as we all strive to find the perfect gift, throw the perfect party, have the perfect family gathering, at holiday time I think about perfect romance. I get really sentimental about whatever celebrity I might currently be dreaming about. So more than ever, my demanding goody-goody heart cannot tolerate less than heroic behavior.

A few days before Christmas this year I glommed on to my holiday-time fixation for 2009. I saw singer/songwriter Ben Folds as a judge on the NBC show “The Sing-Off.” I can’t resist anyone who can talk intelligently about music, particularly in such an upbeat and good-natured way. I checked out his music more fully and found I really love it.

The Internet is a curse to goody-goodies such as myself. You can hold on to your illusions about a celebrity for only as long as it takes to Google them and read some biographies. Ben Folds’ “crime” is that he’s on his fourth wife. Now the rational, cynical, coldly realistic part of me says, “You can’t judge a guy (a) when you’ve never walked in his shoes and (b) when you don’t know him in the slightest.” My best guess is that Ben is like most people: really wonderful in many ways, really terrible in others, and no worse than average.

Still, my goody-goody self yearns for a man who can talk brilliantly about music in an upbeat and good-natured way, and also has no flaws at all. Yes, I know I’m a terrible person. Didn’t I mention that right up front? The best I can do is be in love with the part of Ben Folds that initially caught my fancy, and give the rest of him the benefit of the doubt. That sort of works, but not as well as I would wish for. Bummer, but that’s life.

That said, what keeps my goody-goody hopes alive is that not all my idols have done things to let me down. I’m sure they’ve got faults too, but they are not such apparent and glaring ones that I can’t overlook them, even with my insane standards. A couple of examples of my personal heroes who have not failed me in any respect are Guy Carbonneau and Les Stroud. Both of them are brilliantly talented in their respective fields, and seem also to be good, principled, disciplined men.

While I don’t necessarily fantasize about these two every night anymore (not that I’m admitting I ever did, ahem!), I can and do think of them fondly whenever they come to mind. I appreciate and treasure them for being in that tiny category of heroes that have managed to remain on their pedestals. And icing on the cake is that both have had actual personal dealings with me and treated me with great kindness.

By the way, there’s one more guy in this tiny, special category that I should mention: The one I’ve been married to for the past 15 years. I figured out pretty fast that David was a man of principles and integrity, and time has proven me right.

I may have a ridiculous way of crushing and uncrushing on people, but in the final analysis, I’m no dummy.

Can You Really Find and Date a Vampire?

I supposed I asked for it.

My book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire is starting to raise questions like this one, and I realized it would be handy to have a blog post that addressed it, so I’d have a spot to refer those inquiring along these lines. For example, a fan of the book recently asked me, “I want to meet a vampire, but I’m too shy to approach one, especially since they are so attractive...what can I do to get over my shyness?”

So let me start by saying, I have an aversion to being a buzzkill, especially when the “buzz” involves being imaginative. For example, let’s say you’re talking to fellow fans of a TV series. Let’s work with the example of “True Blood.” Everyone is going off about how much they’d love to date Bill, how cool it would be to talk to him about Civil War days, how dreamy his eyes are, etc. I’m not going to be the one to say, “Look guys, there is no Bill, and I doubt that Stephen Moyer knows anything special about the Civil War.” Au contraire, I’m going to be the one saying, “If Bill came to Milwaukee, I wonder where I’d take him on a first date.”

Recently at one of my book signing appearances, an obviously very intelligent and mature teen girl asked me, “Have you had imaginary friends?” I said (with total honesty), “Only like dozens! I have them right now, several of them.” And this girl proceeded to tell me about her imaginary friend with wonderful enthusiasm, very much as if he were real. Maybe someone not like me would have said to her, “Aren’t you a little old for this?” But think about it a minute: she said “imaginary friend.” It’s not like she’s deceiving herself that the guy is real, in a flesh-and-blood way. It’s just that she’s clever enough to take him just as seriously as her flesh-and-blood friends. And in my opinion, she should.

So, if you really must have me say it in black-and-white: No, I have not dated any real vampires. No, I am not in my book offering tips for finding real vampires and going out with them. But what fun is it to dwell on that?

The fact is, I (and millions of other people) have hung out with vampires in our imaginations. As well as with pirates, space aliens, satyrs, etc. Well, fewer with the satyrs I’m sure. Our inner, imaginative lives mean a lot to us. We’d like to understand them, know how to handle them, realize ways of making them more interesting and helpful. And that, if you must know, is why I wrote my book.

Now if you know anything about effective fantasizing, you know Rule #1 is to set aside reality. At the climax of the play, the villain is not going to turn to the audience, “breaking the fourth wall” as they say, and tell them “You do realize I’m not really going to kill the hero in this scene--we’re just acting.” Just as you get to the moment of the hot love scene in your bedtime fantasy, you do not tell yourself “I must keep in mind I’m not really Hugh Jackman’s girlfriend.”

On the contrary, effective pretending is enhanced by anything you can do to make it seem more real. Why do you think so many people get a charge out of seeing there’s a Web site for Oceanic Airlines? Or buying a four-pack of TruBlood from the HBO Store? Or following Dexter on Twitter? Of course you know you can’t buy tickets on an Oceanic flight to get to the Lost island. You know there’s soda, not synthetic blood, in those bottles. And you know some marketing person is posting as Dexter. But what fun is it to dwell on those facts?

This is why I hate to have to step out of my persona as Diana Laurence, friend of vampires, expert on dating the undead, and counselor to vampirophiles everywhere. This is why I don’t want to have to tell someone with a vampire dating question, “You do realize I’m not seriously talking about dating real vampires, right?”

I suppose in the interest of full disclosure and so I don’t get sued by someone, I have to go on record in this regard. But it’s not like I’m enjoying having to write this post.

The way I truly prefer to reply to the girl asking about her shyness problem is this: Don’t worry...the happy thing is that vampires, with their mind-control talents, can simply hypnotize you into not being so shy. Just walk up to the vampire in question, showing off the red satin ribbon on your wrist, and he’ll be happy to solve the problem for you.

That’s my “story,” and I’m sticking to it. Get it? Good.

Talkin' 'bout Vampires on Video

I have a little treat for those of you in any of the following categories:

1) You've always wondered what I look/sound like.

2) You're desperate to get tips on vampire dating.

3) You want to know more about my new book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire.

4) You really need to blow three and a half minutes on another funny online video that is at least as entertaining as Keyboard Cat.

If any of these define the person you are at this very moment in human history, you will not want to delay watching me in the new video below...

Don't say you weren't warned.

(Oh, and by the way, the book is starting to appear in stores, is in stock at Barnes & Noble online, and available at Amazon...coming soon to stores worldwide, everywhere by October 23.)

Is Defanging Really So Terrible?

This morning my publisher alerted me to a recent article on Slate.com by Grady Hendrix, entitled "Vampires Suck; Actually, they don't. And that's the problem." Grady has a real problem with what I call the defangitization of vampires. He's a lot like Dr. Steven Grey (pictured), a vampire featured prominently in my upcoming book, How to Catch and Keep a Vampire, and author of the essay "The Hideous Domestication of Vampires." The two share an intolerance for anything but the old-fashioned Nosferatu kind of undead.

Their complaint seems to be resounding louder lately. The more popular vampires become with the general populace, the more they are being reinvented according to individual interpretations. Whereas once (Grady would say, pre-Buffy) anyone telling a vampire story tried to stay consistent with Bram Stoker, nowadays it's a bloodsucking, or even nonbloodsucking, free-for-all. And it's the nonbloodsucking that has folks like Grady brandishing pitchforks.

I'm sure you must be dying (or undying, if you're a creature of the night) to know what I have to say on this point. Right. Well, I took it upon myself to respond to Grady in his comments section, and in the interests of laziness, will reprint here for you what I said:

It seems to me there are two types of vampire fans: (1) people who want to keep strict adherance to the "classic" archetype, and (2) people who want to adapt the vampire fit their preferences, even if those characteristics are far afield from the old legends.

I'd like to assure Grady that the original, "monstrous" vampire archetype will always be with us. Meanwhile, I have no problem with creative adaptation. The immutable essence of the archetype, no matter what spin you put on it, is that it is the Shadow, refering to the term used by psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung.

Whether he kills or not, drinks blood or not, hates mortals or not, the vampire archetype always represents some sort of dark aspect of human nature that society shuns and hides--all the while obsessing over it. Whether that shadowy, guilty obsession is sex, violence, danger, evil, etc., the vampire serves as the perfect seductive personification.

Bill Compton is not a killer but he represents the socially unacceptable and morally compromised. Edward Cullen is not a sexual threat but he still personifies danger, unpredictablity, and uncontrollable desire. These and other "new style" vampires may be too angelic for Grady's taste, but they are always devilish to some degree.

People of all cultures, ages and interests are reinventing vampires in new ways, always to work out their own dark urges and express in the fantasy realm what is not possible in reality. So let them! I'm sure Bram Stoker's Dracula won't mind.

So there you have it: I do appreciate those people who don't want to see the old-style vampires "die out." But you see, an archetype that powerful is not going to be killed off by any mere popular trend. At the same time, there's never anything wrong with being creative and innovative about your character development and storytelling. There's room for Bill-lovers, Eric-lovers, Edward-lovers and Dracula-lovers.

I say, variety is the spice of undeath.

Possession

I’m a fan of “True Blood” on Facebook, and yesterday the fan page put up a notice of new tee shirts that say “Sookie is mine.” For those of you who don’t watch the show, the reference is to vampire Bill Compton’s statement concerning his mortal love, Sookie. This declaration is more than simple romance: it guarantees Sookie’s safety in the face of the covetousness of other vampires. Possession is just that big a deal in vampire world.


Well, this posting set off a slew of comments, needless to say. And not a one was negative. Not a single “isn’t this chauvinistic?” remark. On the contrary, everyone was wishing they were Bill’s, or Sookie was theirs, or they were Eric’s or Sam’s or Jason’s, etc.

It would seem that possessiveness, in spite of all society’s politically correct efforts to the contrary, remains sexy.

I’ve touched upon this topic before, in my 3/9/08 post about “Lost’s” Benjamin Linus. His fierce proclamation regarding Juliet —“You’re mine”—is still haunting the dreams of infatuated fans everywhere. To those who find Ben attractive, this greedy, covetous, jealous statement is just about the hottest thing he’s ever said.

Possessiveness, in practice, is not the most desirable trait in a mate. In its most dysfunctional form, it has driven psychopaths to kill. More typically, it causes strife in relationships and makes money for marriage counselors. But in fantasy, fiction, and shows like “True Blood” and “Lost,” it’s all kinds of sexy and romantic.

This is another one of those throwbacks to our more primitive days. When females depended upon males for protection, food and shelter, it was a boon to have your man ferociously possessive of you. You didn’t want him to take it lightly that a competitor or enemy might steal into your camp or castle at night and abscond with you. Men were (and in many ways still are) hardwired to look upon women as prizes to be won in competition with others, and the words “she’s mine” meant victory. Women were flattered to be considered the object of such competition, to be favored enough to be a “prize.” The words “you’re mine” meant a man had found her worthy of fighting for, perhaps to the death.

As obsolete as such concepts are today, we can’t completely put off those primitive feelings. The resulting phenomenon is that a female’s emotions are stirred by the storylines of “True Blood” and “Lost.” We love the concept of a vampire so desperately in love with a mortal woman that he forbids any other to dream of possessing her, and puts his fury behind the words. We even experience a sexual thrill when a diabolical villain declares his possession of a woman who shuns him, knowing it is a demonstration of his desperate desire for her.

I have lately been making my way through the Twilight books, and I must confess there is a recurring problem for me. It’s Bella’s aversion to marrying Edward. I understand her feeling some shame for marrying so young, but I know in her position I would give more weight to my delight at having such a fellow want to bind himself to me. I wondered if perhaps the teens of today are the first generation to not feel such traditional emotions on the subject.

I admit I’m incorrigibly old-fashioned, but I fall back on those things that thrilled young girls in the 60s and 70s: getting “pinned” or having your boyfriend give you his class ring…carving your initials together in a desk…getting an engagement ring. I wondered sadly whether it was becoming passé to feel you belonged to someone, and they belonged to you. Should candy manufacturers stop making those hearts that say “Be Mine”?

Well, the comments about that “True Blood” tee shirt were very heartening to me. The old instincts, apparently, are not dead.

I’m not alone in wishing I could hear Bill or Eric growl “[your name here] is mine.”

Battle of the Sexes

I’m bound to get someone’s ire up with this post, I’m sure.

First off, let me say the following: (1) I believe men and women are different, but neither is superior. (2) I realize you can’t generalize about all members of a gender, but I think certain gender tendencies are well established. (3) My “gay-dar” isn’t perfect but close to it (probably comes of being married to a gay man for 15 years when I was younger).

Okay, so let’s get to it. Davie and I recently watched the second episode of this year’s “HGTV Design Star” competition. The challenge in this ep involved the ten contestants divvying up into two teams, and each team redoing a kitchen. Teams were picked “playground style,” and ended up with Team Amy (consisting of four women and one guy, Dan, who is probably gay) and Team Nathan (consisting of three men—one of whom, Antonio, is definitely not gay—and two women). You can see Team Nathan (left) and Team Amy in the photo.

Both teams had some good (and bad) design skills going for them. Both teams had a guy (Dan and Antonio) they had to rely upon for carpentry. So it became clear quite quickly that the winner was going to be determined mostly by project management skills.

Team Amy was led by a female and had a preponderance of females. Team Nathan was led by a male and had a preponderance of males. What a fun social experiment. Now I don’t feel that “project management skills” are gender-linked in any way. But given the right conditions, “focus” can be.

Team Amy fell prey to having an unfocussed leader. More than once, Amy’s emotions collapsed under the time pressure. Another member of the team was too scatterbrained to accomplish her share of the work. There was no cohesion. As the project unfolded, it was Dan who took over leadership. He tried to keep people on task, and also served as a steadying influence. In fact, at one point I had to cry, “These people need more testosterone!” And Dan, regardless of sexual orientation, definitely had that. Sigh…there’s nothing that irks feminists more than the sight of a man having to comfort his female “superior” when she dissolves into tears.

Team Nathan didn’t have much better of a leader, sadly. Nathan didn’t have much in the way of organizational skills either. However, without some of the emotional distractions occurring for Team Amy, the largely male team did stay on task and conduct their project more logically. And speaking of testosterone, it was the very heterosexual and aggressive Antonio who ended up taking charge and keeping the team in line.

So in the end, Team Nathan completed the kitchen re-do, largely successfully. (It needs to be mentioned that the room’s best feature, a faux hammered metal backsplash, was the brainchild of one of the women.) Meanwhile, when time ran out, Team Amy had left countless tasks incomplete, hadn’t had time to clean up, and didn’t have a chance to put out any accessories. Yikes.

Is it really fair to credit this failure to estrogen and the female nature? Not completely. I’d be the first to say that the average woman is just as capable as the average man of bringing a challenge to a successful conclusion.

However, in this particular case, I truly believe we saw the feminine nature proving to be a disadvantage. The price women pay for their well-developed emotions and their sensitivity to the world around them is this: sometimes we find it too hard to turn that off, ignore the pressure and emotional conflict, and power through to closure. Meanwhile, the same tendencies that can make men insensitive oafs oblivious to what’s happening around them, can be a real boon when closure is the goal.

None of this demonstrates to me that men are better than women. What it shows me is that the success of our species depends on the participation of both genders in reaching goals. Together we not only bring different skill sets, but sometimes completely opposite ones that complement each other perfectly. Team Nathan didn’t win this round of Design Star because it had more men; it won because team members of both genders brought a better balance of aptitudes to the task.

At Your Service

On innumerable occasions I have blogged about the sex appeal of aggressive, alpha-male type guys. Well, today it’s time to look at the flip side.

The other day Davie and I were watching “The Next Food Network Star,” and I was suddenly reminded of a totally different style of guy that really sends me. Calling this particular archetype “the servant” doesn’t completely do him justice, since that implies a slavish subordinate. I’m talking about a man who dedicates himself to serving you out of his own free will. He’s chosen the role because he enjoys it.

My favorite contestant on the show is Jeffrey Saad, a handsome 42-year-old currently working in real estate. Don’t be misled: Jeffrey’s prior history includes culinary school and many years of operating restaurants. In the episode of which I speak, the remaining five competitors teamed up to cater a Miami cocktail party. Jeffrey served as host, and his background as a restaurateur was apparent.


Welcoming the guests, Jeffrey was warm, gracious, welcoming and cheerful. He said something in Spanish that I, who only know English and French, could not translate beyond it including some sort of expression of being “at your service.” Whatever he said, it was hot. And for much of the rest of the evening, Jeffrey bustled around the party, proffering trays of food, tending to guests’ needs, and adjuring everyone that he would “take care of them.”

I should tell you that Jeffrey is no poser. He’s a very sincere, guileless fellow, kind-hearted and slow to anger. That lovely smile of his is not faked. And I could see he truly enjoyed playing the role of “servant,” not because he’s into the subservient role, but because he knows he does it well. He pleases people. I’m sure that has to feel good.

All I know for sure is, it would feel very good to have this man wait on you.

The episode put me in mind of a dinner party I attended many years ago with some co-workers. It was a potluck, with a dozen or so of us gathered at the home of the boss’s secretary. Our financial analyst, Mark, had been a waiter in college. So for the occasion he reprised that old role, pulling out chairs to seat us, bringing dishes around, refreshing drinks. Mark was a good-looking guy, but he never looked so appealing to me as on that evening, with his suddenly straight posture, and one hand tucked behind at the small of his back.

I’m sure all you readers of both genders have had the experience of being waited upon by a truly talented service person. That kind of attention can be quite an aphrodisiac. My theory on that is, the manner of a expert waitperson somewhat mimics courtship. The attention convinces you that this individual sees you as important. The kindnesses of bringing food and drink seem like gifts of affection. The fervent expression of a desire to please is, well, mildly sexual.

Of course you know the serviceperson is simply doing a job. But if they truly seem to enjoy that job, it’s hard not to get caught up in the lovely little charade. The result of this is genuine pleasure on one side, and, if nothing else, a generous tip on the other.

Just watching Jeffrey wait on other people was thrill enough to me. I think if he did it to me in person I might positively swoon. Nothing says lovin’ like a guy who smiles at you over a tray of canapés.

When Slaughter is Sexy

Those of you who have watched Showtime’s series “Dexter” will recognize this little verbal portrait (if not the photo below). But I ask you to read this next paragraph, and consider: what about such a guy is sexy?

Here we have a serial killer, fascinated since childhood with blood, vivisection, and murder. He is emotionless and can only mimic the human behaviors that are normally prompted by feelings. He is asexual, and unable to muster any kind of desire or arousal without, shall we say, serious stimulation. However, killing—and even sometimes the act of killing committed by another—produces excitement, joy, and even lust in his otherwise cold heart.

That’s Dexter in a nutshell. Of course to be fair, there are a few other things about him to be considered. He learned from his father an ethical code that he strictly obeys: to kill only those whose crimes are so horrific that they are more of a threat to the public that Dexter himself. He truly wants to be human, and is conscientious in his efforts to behave like a kindhearted fellow. While incapable of feeling “protective” of his girlfriend, he certainly has an intellectual commitment to watch out for her well-being. And yes, he’s got a fine sense of humor.

Still, a serial killer is a serial killer. Dexter is a very creepy fellow, with his needles and knives and careful attention to using protective plastic sheets.

All that said, this particular homicidal psychopath is undeniably sexy. It helps that Michael C. Hall, who plays Dexter, is sensuously handsome and has a melodic, warm voice. But I maintain it is the concept of this character that hold the true charm. It’s really quite brilliant.

It’s a fact that many women have a strange interest in the Jeffrey Dahmers and Ted Bundys of the world. Twisted though that seems, it is due to the fact that serial killers possess a few key traits—warped, I’ll grant you—that appeal to basic feminine nature.

• They are powerful, literally wielding the power of life and death.
• They are predatory, the ultimate in aggressive (the supreme alpha male if you will).
• They are brilliant and extremely skilled at what they do.

Certainly these things are true of Dexter in spades. And the writers of the show have cleverly worked out his personality so that women will be even more drawn to him. He is harmless to you and me. He’s not evil—or at least has his evil side under control. He’s not motivated by sex and is not a sexual threat. He feels nothing, so somehow doesn’t seem as culpable for what he does.

And he’s charming, funny, gentle mannered, and as a sort of Robin Hood of Homicide, actually a hero.

With all that going on, a lot of us ladies are happy to overlook the downside of Dexter’s personality and habits. We are even more happy to be able to safely indulge the secret perverse interest we have in sociopaths like him.

As a writer, I can only say, kudos to the creators of such a complex and fascinating character. I’ve created a lot of (hopefully) sexy protagonists, but never one like this.

Vampires or Werewolves?

[SPOILERS: Take note, I have some “True Blood” Season 1 and New Moon spoilers in here, so read no further if you are in the middle of either!]

As a romance author I have certainly observed the rise in popularity of both vampires and werewolves (as well as other varieties of shapeshifters) in romantic fiction. Obviously I’m all over vampires as a romantic archetype, but werewolves were another story. You can probably chalk that up to lack of experience…the extent of my familiarity with werewolves is pretty much Lon Chaney and “American Werewolf in London.” At any rate, I just have never quite gotten the appeal.

I thought maybe you have to be a dog person.

Well rejoice, readers; this past week I got to know a couple of shifters more personally, while simultaneously reading Stephenie Meyers’ New Moon and watching Season 1 of “True Blood.” It was interesting enjoying these storylines that are so parallel in this regard. Edward or Jacob? Bill or Sam?


Well, obviously at first blush a girl is going to go for the flashier choice, the vampire. (Edward is literally flashy, in fact.) With both guys you get someone who is really attractive, complex, interesting, compelling, and deliciously dangerous. What’s not to love?

Well, if only because of sunshine-aversion, a vampire can’t always be there for you. Both Bill and Edward are forced by circumstances to absent themselves at length. And who steps in to fill the void for Sookie and Bella? The shapeshifters. After all, most of the time they can be (more or less) normal boyfriends for you. The fact that they sometimes turn into animals doesn’t prevent them from dealing with you like perfectly nice guys would, the rest of the time.

Meanwhile, in both storylines, Jacob and Sam also function to protect the heroine from madmen and monsters who would do them and their loved ones ill. Sort of like Lassie, only male. (See, I knew this was a dog person thing.) And even though I prefer cats, I have to admit Sam-as-collie coming to Sookie’s rescue was really awesome…and it was adorable how he, in dog form, lay at the foot of the bed guarding her.

Likewise, Jacob’s ability to wax lupine is pretty cool, when the whole point of it is to snatch Bella unharmed from the jaws of some vicious vamp. Wolves are actually really wonderful animals, and giant wolves that stand between you and the bad guys are even better.

So, we really have two classic romantic archetypes here, and each has a unique and powerful appeal. Sometimes a girl is drawn to the anti-hero—someone dangerous, a little deranged, very scary in a sexy way. Other times she simply wants to feel protected and safe, watched over by a fierce and strong guardian creature.

So okay, I get it, I get the werewolf/shapeshifter appeal. They can be attentive, faithful, strong but gentle, and wonderfully protective. I’d love to have a big, powerful, abjectly devoted guy like Jacob around. And Sam can sleep at the foot of my bed anytime.

Just so you understand, if Edward returns from Volterra suddenly, or if Bill comes back from the Tribunal, I’m going to have other priorities. That’s just me.

Help, My Celebrity Crush is Dating Someone

My regular readers have had the *cough* privilege of observing, since its inception, my celebrity crush on Neil Gaiman. Although I've settled down quite a bit on that subject, Neil is still a person of no small significance in my world. (There's the fact that I dedicated Soulful Sex: The Darker Side to him earlier this year, and the fact that my last vacation was built around a pilgrimage to drop a copy off at one of his Minneapolis hangouts. Okay, yeah, no small significance.)

So I thought it only right to share with you the latest classic stage that I went through in this little saga.

Let us begin with one fact that I fully and totally embrace, and constantly tell others: When you have a celebrity crush, the person you are smitten with seldom bears much true resemblance to the real celebrity. Oh they look alike, to be sure. They have the same voice. They are in the same line of work, probably. But beyond that, it's a lot of embellishment by the psyche.

Knowing this, and wanting to take my own advice, I have many times referred to my celebrity crush as "my imaginary Neil Gaiman." Meanwhile, for a very long time I avoided all the places on the internet where many details of his day-to-day life are right there for one to monitor. Because, I reasoned, the real Neil Gaiman (although very cool and worthy of tremendous admiration and respect) is not the guy for whom I'm carrying a torch. Not really.

Well, the temptation was just too great. And as often is the case, in following Neil's blog and Twitter account I found out so much about him that it really largely killed the crush. He just wasn't the same as the way my imagination had worked him out to be. Which, duh, Diana, is how it always is, remember?

Is any of this ringing true to you guys? Like you had this vivid picture of this half-Edward-Cullen, half-Robert-Pattinson person with whom you were totally infatuated? Only to find out too much about the real guy and feel all weird and freaked out by it?

Okay. But on to today's point. So, I only very recently learned that, as I suspected, Neil was divorced. And then, yesterday, he went public about his dating musician Amanda Palmer, with whom he has been friends for some time. And you know what just cracks me up? I actually felt a pang of jealousy/sadness/grief about this! As if it had any relevance to me at all!


That just goes to show you how confused your psyche is about these things. From the beginning of my Neil Gaiman Infatuation I fully recognized I was head over heels for not Mr. Gaiman the Real Person, but my dear and wonderful Imaginary Version of Same. And seeing as it is the former, not the latter, who is dating, you'd think I couldn't care less. And STILL, with full understanding of all this, and in my infinite wisdom as Web Person Who Explains All About Sex and Romance, I still felt a five-minute-long pang!

It's just crazy.

But that's how "projection" works. It's very hard to separate your internalized view of your celebrity crush from the actual person, even if you know better.

Well, I took a deep breath. Then I reflected upon the fact that Mr. Gaiman's choice of being with Ms. Palmer over me was really not any indication of my personal inferiority. Then I laughed at myself for a very long time. Ah the human soul! It's just so nuts.

I'm not sure what the moral of the story is. Maybe I'm just saying, if you've ever gone through some "it kills me to think Robert Pattinson may be dating Kristen Stewart" moment, and then felt like an idiot for that emotion, please don't. It may be weird, but it is SO normal.

When Your Celebrity Crush Finds Out

I first met my friend Rebecca after posting about "the Kohl's Guy" (aka Kevin Rice) last fall. She's a huge fan of his so of course she had to introduce herself. In the subsequent months Rebecca has done a bang-up job being a fan, sharing plenty of photos and entertaining content on her blog and also creating a Facebook page for Kevin. I've really enjoyed watching her go down such a path for the first time, having myself blazed that trail ridiculously often.


Recently, through the people who have signed up on Kevin's Facebook page, many of whom are his friends, it became clear to Rebecca that the man had most certainly at some point read her musings about him. Yes, she experienced the "OMG My Celebrity Crush Has Read My Stuff" Moment. There's nothing quite like it, that feeling that is the perfect blend of "oh yay he knows I exist!" and "oh god, he has to think I'm some insane stalker."

Rebecca reacted as all intelligent, well-adjusted, sensible people do when this occurs: She laughed at herself. I've certainly made fun of myself a number of times on this blog for my own romantic ravings about celebrities from whom I have the hots. It's a much healthier and more reasonable reaction than panic or shame. Certainly any celebrity who has run across fan commentary such as this merely smiles, is fairly pleased, and in the case of the humble ones, shakes his head and says, "If only you knew me, honey, you'd find out I'm just a guy."

Still, I know from experience that Rebecca is having the occasional panicky moment of shame. Well, shame is too strong a word: it's really more just embarrassment. I think that springs from the fact that when one writes or blogs about a celebrity crush, one's thoughts are in another world. We interact with our crushes in the realm of imagination. It's not like we filter everything we do and say in that place, keeping in mind that the actual man may someday read it. As much as it seems ironic, when we are most intimately and vividly engaged with our crush, the real fellow is quite far from the picture.

So when suddenly the flesh-and-blood guy pokes his head into the scene, looks around at what we've created, and reacts...well, it can really freak one out.

During my vacation this weekend, I made a pilgrimage to a comic book store in Minneapolis that is a favorite hangout of Neil Gaiman. For one thing, I do like stores like that, and wanted to see this particular, renowned one. DreamHaven is a very cool place in its own right. But my other purpose for the visit was to drop off for Neil a copy of the comic book I wrote, which includes reference to his inspiration as a comic book writer, and a copy of my collection Soulful Sex: The Darker Side which was dedicated to him.


This isn't the first time I've given a celebrity a book dedicated to him...I actually hand delivered my book Living Beyond Reality to the then-famous hockey player to whom it was dedicated. That was a scary and thrilling time. Meanwhile, I also sent Les Stroud a copy of the book that contained my story dedicated to him ("Spacewrecked with Joel Fennimore," Soulful Sex: The Science Fiction Collection), and it's weird to think he's read it.

The funny thing about this situation is that I'm not at all sure these books will ever be cracked open by Mr. Gaiman. For one thing, it would involve Greg (the owner of DreamHaven) actually remembering to give my package to him on a future, rare visit. And for another, it would require Neil to take the time to open it and look. And gifts from fans arrive in his hands every day, I'm sure.

So to be honest, I really simply went through the motions of this delivery in a ceremonial way; that is, just to go through officially with the dedication of the book. I certainly have no expectation of someday getting an email from Neil or even Greg about the matter. Which is fine with me.

Still, I can't say I haven't gone through the exercise of imagining Neil stretched out on his couch, reading my book by the amber light of one lamp, saying to himself, "Wow, I like this!"

That's just the kind of thing dreamers like me and Rebecca do. Much to our occasional, good-natured embarrassment.

From Horror to Romance: Vampires Transformed

So, I can now share with you more about the book I’m currently writing for early 2010 release by Sellers Publishing. It’s called How to Catch and Keep a Vampire and will be a step-by-step guide to finding, selecting, wooing and being in a relationship with a vampire. Surely everyone will want a copy, right?

I’m about halfway through drafting the book and so far I’m having a wonderful time addressing issues like what traits are most attractive to vampires, how to relate to these undead charmers, etc. As I research the matter online I have been finding out just how many people out there have burning questions on this subject. I’m glad to do my part to provide answers and clarification. And yes, this book is supposed to be funny. But also helpful. You’ll just have to read it to see how this all shakes down.

Needless to say, this project has brought to my mind just what a huge volume of vampire literature, lore, and pop culture has accumulated from the time these creatures first appeared in our world. Particularly interesting to me is to watch the slow but sure evolution of the blood-drinker from horror icon to sex symbol.


If you want to go back to the earliest vampire movies, check out 1922’s German horror film “Nosferatu.” I share for you here a photo of Max Schreck in the starring role of Count Orloc, based upon Dracula from Bram Stoker’s novel. He is quite thoroughly unattractive and terrifying. And really, when you think about it, shouldn’t a creature that feeds on human blood be terrifying?

Nevertheless, from their earliest origins, vampires have always possessed a certain sexual allure, however shrouded in creepiness. The original movie Dracula, Bela Lugosi, certainly did. Everyone picked up immediately on the parallels between vampire victimization and erotic seduction. It wasn’t simply because the neck is an erogenous zone, although it is. There was also the eternal struggle of dominance and submission that we are often ashamed to associate with sex and therefore shroud in metaphor, like the vampire myth.

For most of my lifetime, the vampire genre has been a mixed bag of horror and eroticism. Both elements were always present—in different proportions, true, but always both. Only in recent years have we seen the erotic—and even, can you believe it, romantic—side rise to the fore. A lot of people will credit Stephenie Meyer and Twilight for this development, but in fact, it was brewing before her books became bestsellers. Romance readers have for years had an insatiable appetite for vampire romance. More and more authors (myself included with my novellas “Pints” and “The Verity of the Vampyre” and my novel Bloodchained) were finding ways before Twilight to provide romantic vampire heroes to our readers.

A century ago vampires were served up as horror characters with a dash of sexiness. Now it is all the rage to make vampires into sex symbols with a dash of the sinister, like Spike here from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”


I think the change is reflective of a larger societal transformation. And I think it’s a good one. We have become more accepting of our own “dark urges,” if you will. More and more people are discovering it’s possible to explore that side of the psyche and keep your moral compass. In fact, playing on the dark side can be refreshing and invigorating, and actually help a person keep to “the straight and narrow” in real life.

A similar phenomenon can be seen in the popularity of Harry Potter. Witches and warlocks were once nearly universally feared and loathed. But at Hogwarts, in spite of the mystery and intermittent scariness, we find the world of witchcraft turned into a wholesome environment in which kids can grow up.

How to Catch and Keep a Vampire would not have worked a hundred years ago unless it was about trapping and extermination. But happily, in today’s world there are a whole lot of people who love vampires and simply want to understand why they do, and what to do with that affection.

It’s going to be really fun for me to give them some ideas.

The Opposite of Erotic is…PMS?

Okay, today I’m blogging about something rather weird, I know. Here’s why: this morning I discovered that although I’m not actually PMS-ing, I am in a PMS-ey mood. I found it interesting that I actually had a mental picture of a “PMS-ey mood.” And I thought, maybe I could do a nice little public service announcement here about what we women actually mean when we say we’re PMS-ing. I know, cool, right?

Let’s start with the title of this post, and I’ll tell you why I consider feeling erotic or sexy as the opposite of PMS-iness. For myself and many women, erotic feelings are submissive--the “go ahead and do what you will to me” kinda thing. We find whatever male has caught our attention to be authoritative, or dominant, or having potential to please us. The guard goes down, we’re eager to play.

On the opposite end of the scale is PMS. Now I realize a lot of women, myself included, experience PMS as worry or sadness. But today I’m talking more about another very common symptom: crankiness. But be aware: this is no ordinary irritability we’re talking about here. For me, at least, PMS-iness is a particular kind of bad mood.

Here’s the common thread of thinking running through my head during one of these monthly “fits of pique”:

do NOT waste my time
your idiocy is fraying my last nerve
how can people possibly do such lame-ass things?
try that again and I will SO punch you


Now I’m not a biologist, nor a sociologist, but I’ll just open my opinionated mouth and say, I think the PMS thing is like being a guy without any of the other guy traits to keep you in check. Like, most guys seem to me to be equipped with a “bygones” gland. It’s what gives them the remarkable ability to let things go, whether it be a whupping at the pool table or having their girlfriend stolen. (Women are not typically like this.)

So when I’m feeling PMS-ey, I get the aggressive feelings of a male, without any “bygones” element. When a car cuts me off on the freeway, I will follow it and give serious thought to tracking the driver to his garage and slapping him. When people at work suggest ideas they know nothing about and I rejected years ago, I hang up the phone and call them bad names to myself off and on over the next hour. Every smoker I see gets an internal comment, “Way to kill yourself and raise my medical costs, loser!”

I know, pretty mean, right? But honestly, PMS can make you feel like those around you got up this morning with a firm plan to ruin your day. They make one little human mistake and you take it as a personal affront. Everyone is the enemy in some small way, some in big ways.

You know, there’s that old saying that if mothers ran the armies, we’d have no more wars. I say, not if they’re PMS-ey…in that case, here come the nukes! And see how this is quite the opposite of feeling erotic? It’s make war, not love.

Well, fortunately, we women are still civilized creatures. I’d bet you any money no one around me (except perhaps the poor unfortunate Davie) even guesses I am capable of such moods. Usually the only beneficiary of all the ill feeling is my own psyche.

And the funny thing about it is, there’s actually a positive side to having the occasional PMS-ey mood. Seeing as most of the time I live my life trying to be cooperative, affectionate, conciliatory, etc., it’s kind of nice sometimes to unleash my inner bee-atch. You know, get the vitriol out of the system. Because it’s really hard to write erotic romance when you’re gunked up with all that negative aggression.

So anyhoo, I’m sure I’ve really enhanced your lives, guys, by telling you the sorts of things your female significant others are thinking when in a PMS-ey mood. You’re welcome. My pleasure. Grrrrrr. :-)

Impossible Sexiness

Occasionally I like to peruse my husband's PC Gamer magazines. There's not a lot in them I can relate to, not being a gamer myself (except for Peggle, which rules). However, I enjoy the geek banter and the fantasy art.

What continually cracks me up is how computer games portray their female characters. I call it "the BB Phenomenon," which stands for "Bronze Brassiere." Whether they're battling demons in hell, post-apocalyptic zombies, or orcs, these chicks always face danger fearlessly wearing nothing but a bronze brassier and a chain mail miniskirt. I'll bet women in the Armed Forces find this even funnier than I do.


But heck…this isn't war, it's fantasy. If you're going to be staring for hours at a shapely female battling giant spiders on your monitor, why wouldn't you want her to look hot? (Which reminds me to ask the question of any male gamers who read this. Do you always play a female character in third person POV games? Davie does, not because he's secretly a cross-dresser, but because he wants to spend the game looking at a hot female. Makes sense, really.)

Well, back to my point for the day--it's easy to poke fun at the ways men picture their ideal women, because we can see with our own eyes how far they are from reality. But honestly, aren't women just as guilty? The reason we're not so blatant about it is that we idealize character rather than appearance. But cripes, the preposterous characters we come up with! You're more likely to run into Red Sonja than some of these guys. Let me provide a few examples.

Mr. I'm-Evil-Except-with-You. The most common version of this guy is the vampire or other dark character, some fellow who commits heinous acts toward everyone else nightly, but for you is transformed by love into a paragon of devotion. Sure, it plays in fiction. But in real life, if a guy is nasty, cranky, a user, etc., he does so quite consistently. Only fools (and we can be fools, I admit) will think such a man will be different with one woman. And even if that were true, who wants to be with someone who is nice to you but the rest of the time kicks dogs?

The Brooder. Now this is the guy who isn't even that great toward you. And yet, you want him: you want him to share his terrible secret, to take solace in your arms, to just keep doing that really sexy pout. The tortured soul gets us every time. He seems so needy, so interesting. But in real life, Heathcliff isn't romantic, he's just annoying. He never wants to cheer on your favorite team, watch "Seinfeld" with you, or read "I Can Has Cheezburger." Not actually so sexy.


The Superhero. This kind of character would actually be great in real life, but like Red Sonja, is just not, well, plausible. Not only will you be hard pressed to find a guy with Superman's powers, you probably won't even find one with his ethics. And in spite of our knowing this, a lot of women (I'm a prime example) go through life sure there must be a real superhero. Intelligent, strong, talented, sensitive, self-sacrificing, honest, faithful, all one-hundred-percent of the time? Nope, not even Davie. And yet we persist in searching....

The Pirate. Ah for a lusty adventurer, swashbuckling through life, wielding a sword so as to rip our bodices with aplomb! He's rough and ready, a man's man, with testosterone to spare. Throw into this category any of those uber-masculine type guys, like crab fishermen and ice road truckers. What woman can resist? Well, again, works better on paper...also smells better, may have better teeth, and definitely has more free time. Face it, ladies, any guy who is preoccupied with duties that tax his manhood to the brink daily is going to have more on his mind than romancing you.

Yep, without doubt we women do our own version of the BB Phenomenon. Our men are all rock stars, poets, vampires, tycoons, and princes. They swim with sharks, travel in space, and can kill a man with a Colt .45 at fifty paces. They do this and more, all the while staying clean, saying witty things, and taking us out to dinner at least once a week.

It makes sporting a bronze brassiere look like child's play.

Why Nice Girls Go for Bad Boys

A friend and fan of mine, let's call him Adam, emailed me in response to my last post about Ben Linus. Adam wondered, why the heck is it that women are so attracted to villains? He recounted a story of dating a woman with a history of abuse, and treating her kindly and well for a change, only to have her end up returning to her previous nasty boyfriend.

Adam is not alone, that's for sure. I know so many men who grew up believing the best way to woo a girl was to be nice to her, only to find out that like in so many areas of life, nice guys finish last with chicks. So they wonder, what is the deal with females? These ladies can't really be gluttons for punishment, can they?

My answer to that is, no, women are not after punishment when they fall for Bad Boys. On the contrary, they are out for rewards, in one or both of two key ways:

1. Bad Boys make up for our having to be so darn good. I've talked about this one a lot. Traditionally, girls are raised to be cooperative, empathetic, nurturant, willing to compromise and sacrifice their own needs. Having had to stifle self-interest, women are fascinated by males who live their lives selfishly and independently. Such men are everything we Good Girls are not: they break the rules, ignore convention, and do whatever they damn well please. In the great tradition of "opposites attract," these guys draw women like moths to flame. Just being around them is exciting, liberating, and arousing. Sure, there's a price to be paid--ill treatment--but to a point, it's an acceptable price.

2. There is nothing more satisfying than reforming a Bad Boy. I honestly think this is what's behind most of the truly "hard cases" of women hooked on cruel men. I haven't spent as much time discussing this one, so let's focus on it today.

There's a saying that goes, "Women marry men hoping to change them; men marry women hoping they won't change." Ever wonder why women so often have this agenda? Well, historically speaking, while men were busy with government, commerce, the professions, etc., women had to focus on homemaking. Therefore, if a woman was to feel fulfilled, and earn a sense of accomplishment, she had to do it by shaping the household. One key element of that was making improvements upon her husband.

Really, if you marry a nice guy, what challenge is there in that? It's already his nature--you can't take any credit for it. But if you adopt a Bad Boy, and by your love and effort and charms manage to reform him, that really proves something. It proves that this guy, who came to you all anti-social and dysfunctional, was transformed by his love for you. Could there be anything more flattering and self-affirming to a gender restricted largely to homemaking?

Nowadays it's easier for women to find fulfillment in arenas outside the home, but after thousands of years of behavior patterns, we are not going to change our propensities overnight.

Okay, now let's apply this principle to a couple of examples. In Example 1, you're Cinderella and the guy is Prince Charming. He's pretty much perfect when you meet him: brave, with a fine sense of duty, perfect manners, and the ability to ballroom dance to boot. Once you overcome the nasty people trying to keep the two of you apart, and achieve Happily Ever After, the story's over. And what have you accomplished? You tell yourself, "Hey, I won the heart of a nice guy"; but especially to the young and inexperienced, it seems like if you had faced more of a challenge you would feel even better about yourself.

Flip side: for Example 2, let's go back to Ben Linus. It's hard to be certain, but he seems like a lonely, f'ed up, megalomaniacal misfit. He's duplicitous, selfish, tricky and untrustworthy. Imagine then if you could be the woman who heals his emotional wounds, meets his unmet needs, and transforms him into a whole and healthy person. Now that's an accomplishment! And imagine how grateful Ben would be to you! You are truly his salvation, his whole world. You did what no one before you could do. You're amazing!

And that's how it works, Adam, my friend. When your girlfriend's nasty ex came after her again, she thought, "See, he needs me, he misses me, he can't live without me. I am changing him!" And of course she couldn't turn her back on him then, just when he was displaying evidence of this glorious transformation-by-love! Why should she stay with you, a nice, integrated, whole person, and take the easy road? There's a man out there who just can't make it without her!

Of course he was just acting that way for the moment, to get her back for sex, cleaning, cooking, a sympathetic ear, etc. Of course it all went bad again. But she was willing to risk it, just in case. And until everything fell through, she could once again glory in the feeling of being with a Bad Boy.

In a horrible way it makes sense, doesn't it?

So what's a nice guy like Adam to do? Hang in there and stay true to your nice self. Most women do wise up (there are three in my family who did, for example). Women are not actually stupid, nor are they masochists. Eventually they learn the lesson that the pain a Bad Boy causes more than offsets the pleasure he offers, and then they start looking for a man who will treat them well.

Which, by the way, is what ended up happening to my friend Adam. Because although Bad Boys may finish first in the sprints, life happens to be a marathon.

[About the illustration for today's post: This is a drawing I found of devil Crowley and angel Aziraphale, two characters from the book Good Omens. I find this depiction of a bad boy and a nice guy who are both attractive really fascinating. So do many artists, it would appear (just search Deviant Art for "Good Omens" and see). Anyway, this drawing was done by the fabulously talented Linnpuzzle]

Bad Boys, Good Guys, and Ben Linus

My daughters and I recently discussed the experiences all three of us have now endured, regarding the transition from Bad Boys to Good Guys. I dare say we are in good company in that regard.

Women often dig guys that treat them mean. It's complicated. I've discussed the attraction of the Bad Boy archetype at some length, both here on the blog and in my other columns, so I won't go into his special charms again here.

But the thing is, many of us have our first significant relationship with a guy who is less than kind. Some of us never get past it, and repeat the mistake over and over. But a lot of us learn from the experience. We recognize that Bad Boys can be charming, and sexy, and exciting, but in the end are just not worth it. They may offer thrills, giddy emotions, and hot sex...but the trade-off for a Good Guy, who gives you support, respect, understanding, and nurturance, is totally worth it.

My daughters and are all currently in relationships of various stages, from second date to six months to 15 years of marriage, all with nice guys. None of them are the kind who walk into a bar and turn heads; but all of them are perfectly attractive and very sweet guys. Do we three still find ourselves attracted to Bad Boys? You bet. Would we be with one? Hell's no.

So...what about Benjamin Linus? Well, Lost fans, I was thinking about all the stuff reinterated above, and I realized something that may account for the irresistible power this character has over so many women. Paradoxically (and isn't the Island always good for another paradox?), Ben is both Bad Boy and Good Guy at once.

This has been true from his very first appearance on the show. Remember when he swore he was just another castaway, an innocent guy named Henry Gale? No matter how many reasons we had to think he was lying, he was really some sort of evil mastermind, there was always that chance he really was a nice man. This has remained his shtick ever since. Just when you think he truly is pursuing a higher goal, he really may be the savior of all our heroes, he pulls some nasty stunt like a mass murder.

But meanwhile, just when he's rubbed out his latest enemy in cold blood, we become convinced he did it for some higher reason: true love, maybe...or to save countless other lives. He can just seem so damn sincere. With Ben, somehow duplicity comes across as genius, outrageous gall seems like courage, lying seems like, well, impressive outsmarting. In his most recent outing, Ben murdered Major Good Guy John Locke with his bare hands...and yet, all the while I watched the act, I was saying to myself, "This has to be for a good reason. I mean, it has to be. Right?"

So, with Ben Linus we women get to have our cake and eat it too. We can feel all tingly when Ben fools everyone with his latest lie, and all fluttery when he orders people around. But in the next minute we can honestly entertain the belief that in the end, Ben could save everyone we love on this show. We can feel pathos when he gets brutally beat up yet again (how many times has it been now? Surely some devoted fan is keeping count). And in the next scene we can marvel at how it seems every string in the plot is pulled by Benjamin Linus the Master Puppeteer.

I'm not sure I can think of a better example in any fictional medium of a man being Hero and Villain virtually simultaneously. And I have to believe it is this complex hybrid of the two archetypes that keeps women fascinated by Ben.

There are a lot of plot lines up in the air on Lost, but for my money, the one I look most forward to seeing resolved in a couple more years is this: Is Ben Linus a Bad Boy or a Good Guy? I am so hoping for the latter, but in the meantime, it's his role as the former that keeps me glued to his scenes.

Funny how that works.

[Ben Linus fans, please see also my original Ben post: "Please Tell Me Why I Love Ben Linus"]

Torn Between Two Lovers

Last night on “Lost,” the writers set up a very nice new love triangle. Sawyer, who fell for Kate but never established a relationship with her, has been pining during the three years of their separation (he’s on the Island, she’s back in civilization). Well, actually, he’s been simultaneously pining for Kate and falling in love with Island cohort Juliet. Imagine Sawyer’s predicament when, still flushed from Juliet’s latest embraces, he finds Kate & Co. have returned to the island.

The love triangle is a plot device that never grows old.

Usually the focus in this kind of story line is on the competition between the two individuals fighting for the love of the third. For example, in the past “Lost” had a storyline about Jack and Sawyer competing for Kate. There’s endless fun in that kind of plot line, as you root for your favorite to win out.


But on the flip side, it’s also fun to focus on the person who is in love with two people at once. I think this may be the female equivalent of a three-way, in fact. Rather than fantasizing about having sex with two men at once (not that we never do that, it’s just not like with men who constantly do that), we imagine having two men in love with us. It certainly wouldn’t suck to have that happen.

Interestingly, it’s also fun to imagine being in love with two people at the same time. Why is that? Never being short on theories about sex and romance, I am happy to explain. This situation makes for not one but two affairs that are illicit. When you’re with one guy, you’re wronging the other, and ditto. Remember that old 70s song by Mary MacGregor, “Torn Between Two Lovers”? There was a line in the chorus that went, “Lovin' both of you is breakin' all the rules.” And as we know, there’s nothing more fun than breaking all the rules.

Another factor in such a scenario is our sense that “true love is never wrong.” A person can honestly feel okay about cheating if it’s done out of true love. While we’re quoting old pop songs, “If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.” There’s enough justification that springs from the happiness we bring each party, that it makes the misery we inflict upon the other worthwhile.

I always reflect back on one of the coolest ongoing nocturnal fantasies I’ve ever had (it actually appears in my story “The Storytellers” in Soulful Sex: The Darker Side), which was this sort of triangle. I was simultaneously involved with the Emperor Caligula and a Roman centurion, agonizingly torn between the two. In both cases the men needed me desperately, which made me feel I simply had to stay with both at once.

The whole triangle thing is delightful on so many levels. It is, of course the heart of my more recent fantasy about Mister House and the Man in the Black Coat, which you’ll recall from my blog post about the insane complexity of my fantasies. I’ve actually picked up on that fantasy again recently. It’s just so fun watching the two men get jealous about each other. And I get to feel deliciously guilty when I’m with one and knowing I’m betraying the other. AND I get to be needed and adored by two guys at once.

Honestly, men just don’t know how to construct a proper three-way fantasy. Sex between three people is so lame by comparison to the complex, delectable thrills of being torn between two lovers.

And may I add that “Lost” (which is having the most enthralling season ever, IMHO) now has the pieces in place for an actual love square. Kate and Juliet have each had both Jack and Sawyer in love with them, so the potential here is stupendous. Throw into the mix Ben’s longstanding obsession with Juliet and...talk about love tangles, yikes!

I say, bring it on.

[Warning label for this post: The author does not in any way recommend or endorse the practice of love triangles in real life. Been there, done that, wish I hadn’t!]

Sex, Guys and Video Games, Part 2

Last time, you remember, we left my husband Davie engrossed in another fun evening of playing his computer game, “The Witcher.”

I stopped in for a visit to the bedroom and observed my usual minute or two of game-playing, then asked him some typically inane questions like “Is that a wyvern?” and “Are there any cats in this game?” Davie answered me patiently as always. Then he remarked, “You know what’s interesting about this game? I’m allowed to have sex with any named character except Carmen, and I only want to have sex with Carmen.”

Typical of a guy, hey? It’s the unattainable chick that gets his interest.

Suddenly I realized that by grilling Davie with questions about the sex in this game, I could probably get a new and interesting peek into the male psyche. So I did, and I did, and here are the highlights:

Carmen, in being off-limits, is the ultimate in desirability. Carmen is the madam of the local house of prostitution. Having completed a favor for her (he got rid of some thug), all Davie has to do to hire any of the ladies is to give that girl flowers. (Imagine if Vegas operated like this. Bad for pimps, good for florists.) Just to clarify, Carmen’s pretty hot, but so are many of the other characters. There’s just something irresistible about the forbidden. And meanwhile, guys--being competitive--just love whatever they have to work at to win.

Archetypes are at play. Davie was fine with helping out Carmen--he loves doing nice things for pretty women. But he has no interest in hanging with the ho’s. It doesn’t matter what they look like in the game, it’s what they represent: and Davie has never liked obviously seductive types. He’s the kind to prefer a girl who wears an oversized tee shirt to bed over a Victoria’s Secret model. So not being into the prostitute archetype, he just says no. Now another game player who’s into dirty girls might take a different tack. It’s whatever floats your boat, in games or in real life.

But curiosity trumps all. Davie’s not into in-your-face seductresses, so he doesn’t like vampire ladies much either. However, given the opportunity to do the deed with three vampire chicks, he thought, “Heck, why not?” He just wanted to see how it would all go down. (I guess it was a bit disappointing.) In fact, curiosity was what first convinced Davie to see what sex in the game was like. His first opportunity was with a character named Triss, and Triss was hot, so he thought, why not find out what it’s like? Curiosity is a big motivator with guys in general; it’s why they are so inexplicably tormented by not knowing what everyone’s breasts in the world look like naked.

A relationship does really mean something. There is one character in the game who really does establish a romance with our alter ego/hero Geralt: Shani. She was the second character who “offered herself,” and the fact that Davie had gotten to know her, and she was nice, and she liked him, definitely increased his interest.

Being a rescuer stirs the libido. Davie also admitted that doing helpful acts for female characters works as an aphrodisiac. It wasn’t Carmen’s inaccessibility alone that drew him to her; he confessed he didn’t have an interest until after he performed that favor for the madam. That relationship also made her more real and less a “shady lady” to him. Generally speaking, having performed the “knight in shining armor” function for a girl made him more interested in making love to her.

It’s not so much conquest as accomplishment. As I explained in my previous post, in this game, when you have sex with a character, you win a character card to keep in your collection of weapons and treasures. If you install the “European patch,” these cards are actually a little graphic. Now on its face this seems uncomfortable like adding notches to one’s belt. Think about it though: How can a guy feel like he’s racking up conquests when the game is simply written this way? No, the phenomenon becomes a variation on that theme of male competitiveness: accomplishment. Kind of like merit badges in Boy Scouts.


Which is not to say looks don’t count. The motivation to win these cards really is enhanced by the hot pictures. What was interesting to hear, though, was Davie’s disappointment that they do not accurately enough resemble the characters in the game itself. I guess interacting with these 3D animated hot chicks kind of builds up a personalized yearning, and if the payoff is a little bit off, it’s disappointing. Kind of like when you Google Image search some celebrity and the thumbnail looks really good, and then it turns out the picture is actually some fan’s bad rendering of the celebrity. C’mon, that’s happened to you too, right?

So, bottom line, it’s fortunate “The Witcher” is a really good adventure game, because it fails almost utterly as porn. Which is all right with Davie and also with me.

I don’t care if there’s a cat house or not. However, I do think it needs cats.

Sex, Guys and Video Games, Part 1

Seeing as my last post was a bit estrogen-fueled, I thought I’d treat you on my next two posts to thoughts from the male point-of-view. I interviewed my husband David about a topic near and dear to his heart, computer games, with a view of course to the erotic aspect of the medium. The things I found out were fascinating on two levels: first, there’s the interesting approach (or lack thereof) that the gaming industry takes to sex. Second (which I’ll talk about next time) there’s everything you learn concerning a guy’s feelings about sex from how he plays “The Witcher.”

“The Witcher,” it seems, is one of the few computer games that includes any sexual content at all. And in order to get that content to even include a tiny bit of nudity, U.S. users have to download the European patch to the game. Installing this patch enables gamers to have more graphic blood, as well as see a little T&A.

The sexually graphic content comes in the forms of the little cards you earn for sleeping with women in the game, and in the patched version, those cards show your conquests in more revealing garb and poses. The standard U.S. version depicts these women characters with “offending” features covered up.

Lest you get the misconception that this game focuses on sex, let me say right now that that’s not at all the case. “The Witcher” is a typical D&D style fantasy game where you, in the guise of heroic Geralt, go on a series of medieval quests, slaying monsters and outwitting evil forces while building up your powers and collecting tools and treasures. It’s just that in this game, en route you are permitted to have sex with the female characters if you so choose. Well, all of them but Carmen, madam of the local brothel--she’s off limits. (More on that next time.)


Not only is the sex something of an unnecessary side trip, it’s pretty lame when it happens. The “seductions” last a few seconds, you see a romantic bedside embrace, and then the game shows the same three seconds of identical gauzy footage for every encounter. I know that your average man like to get right to it, but this is too brief for my husband and I’m sure he’s not alone. Especially considering the lack of payoff.

Well, the true “prize” for having sex is getting the character card. These ladies are pretty hot, and their cards are nicely done graphics-wise. I personally wouldn’t need the European patch, but then, I’m a girl. I can understand why guys would get it, that’s for sure.

And that’s all there is. That’s all there is in one of the most graphic, sex-oriented games out there, which is of course rated M. I’m really amazed that with the technology we have at our fingers nowadays, no companies are producing hotter stuff than this. Heck, you’d think somebody would develop a Sims-style brothel game where you can design your own “companions”! (I am highly suspicious that this is what a lot of guys who own 3D-people-creation software, like DAZ, use the programs for.)

But then I thought about it. You know, you can only sell what you can get to market. That is, if someone designs a product but no one is willing to produce it, what’s the point? With all the flack the gaming industry has gotten over leading little boys to acts of violence, they have a reputation to protect, and most gaming companies wouldn’t touch such a project. Davie told me there was a huge uproar when a mod for graphic sex with a prostitute was available in one of the Grand Theft Auto games. It wasn’t a legitimate part of the game, but the files were available for unlocking by clever hackers, so that got the game manufacturer in lots of hot water.

Anyway, if someone did publish “Sims Have Sex,” who would sell it? Certainly not Best Buy or Target or the Game Spot at your local mall. Not even comic books stores would want to, knowing moms from the neighborhood would picket their shops immediately.

Besides, this is what the porn industry is for. The gaming industry is for gaming.

When David started playing “The Witcher,” he had no plan to take the little “sex side trips.” He plays these games for the fun of doing heroic deeds, crushing huge monsters, and becoming a demi-godlike creature. It was only out of curiosity that he tried it, and then decided to repeat the scenario with other characters in sort of a “collect-’em-all” spirit. Really, the inclusion of the sex feature was not at all a selling point for him.

So I guess this all goes to explain why computer games have so little sexual content. And I’m not saying they should, I’m just intrigued by the phenomenon. After all, here you have a phenomenon fueled by testosterone, produced nearly completely by males for males, and there’s virtually no graphic sex to be found.

Things that make you go “huh.”

Well, in my next post things get even more interesting as we delve into the psyche of Davie, as revealed by his exploits playing “The Witcher”!