Tag Archives: Novitiate by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

An Odd But Lovely Little Morning in Crazeysburg!

The good news is that the official publishing contract for 1954 Powder Blue Pickup came through during the night, so it is now signed and returned!!! I am just super excited about that, gang. I really love that crazy little book.

It is filthy as hell, with a minimal story arc — although it does have a couple of character arcs, so that’s pretty cool! But seriously, I absolutely love that book. And even if I hadn’t written it, I would read it and think, Wow, this is the best book I’ve ever read!! And then I’d wonder, Wow, who wrote this amazing book? And then I’d get on Kickstarter and start a fundraiser to make a documentary film all about the obscure writer of 1954 Powder Blue Pickup, the best book ever written.

You know, this is kind of interesting. Many years ago, I wrote an erotic short story, published by an underground zine in San Fransisco, and it was loosely based on a boy I used to babysit when I was 16, who had a serious crush on me. And he was like the horniest little kid, ever.  Which presented a serious challenge to me because I am absolutely 100% not a pedophile. And even at age 16, I was extremely maternal.

The last I had heard about him, back in the 1980s after I moved to NYC, was that he had joined the Navy and I remember thinking how odd it was that they allowed 10-year-old boys to join the Navy — because I simply could not believe he was already old enough to join the Navy. But the story I wound up writing stemmed more from that thought that he actually was old enough to be in the Navy.

Anyway, I found out a couple weeks ago that he is still alive, and still lives in Ohio, although he lives up in Cleveland now — AND — he’s a really powerful State Supreme Court Judge. I found that really just astounding and really kind of amusing. Remembering what he was like as an indescribably horny 10-year-old.

Ah well. Life does indeed go on. But I saw a photo of him and he has all this grey hair now, but he looks really kind and compassionate. Like he is probably a very good Judge.

Well, my dinner last night with Kevin did not happen because the worst storm imaginable suddenly blew in out of nowhere. Torrential rain, thunder, lightning, and really strong winds. The wind was blowing everything, everywhere.  So we postponed the dinner, which disappointed me because I really wanted an update on my play, plus he has those promotional postcards ready for me to start sending out. But the cool news is that I saw 3 rainbows while the storm was in the process of passing over.

Literally, 3 rainbows. And I have not seen a rainbow since I was about 9 years old. It was so cool.

And my other friend Kevin is supposed to fly back from Montana today, although he isn’t planning on staying in Ohio for very long. So I’m not sure when he’s planning to come out here and get his 1965 VW camper van from out of my barn. But whenever he does make it out here, I know he will be impressed with the barn’s new roof, and the new barn door! Plus, it will be really nice to see him.

Well, that’s kind of it around here today, gang. I’ve had sort of an odd morning here.  As usual, I’ve been up and out of bed since 4am, but for the most part, I sat on my bed in the dark, drank my coffee and stared out the window at the wind blowing the branches of the maple tree outside my window. Even with that terrible wind last evening, most of its leaves are still on the branches. So it was sort of hauntingly beautiful to look at.

And while I sat and stared, I listened to “Insider” by Tom Petty (with a supporting vocal by Stevie Nicks, 1981), over and over. I’m not a huge Stevie Nicks fan at all, but I do love how she sounded when she sang with Tom Petty.

Anyway, I listened to that for quite a long time and I grappled with reality — but mostly the reality that other people consider “reality,” not necessarily the reality that I call reality. And I guarantee you, those are two distinctly parallel lines that will never meet. So I either go crazy trying to see the world the way other people see it, or just mind my own business and keep to myself and let life happen and just sit here and write and go less crazy. Even though that version is extremely lonely.

So it’s a weird morning here. But I do hope to spend some time focusing on “Novitiate” (the new erotic short story in progress) and maybe even making some good progress with that. We shall see.

Meanwhile, have a nice Saturday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my sitting-in-the-dark-drinking-coffee-and-staring-out-at-the-tree music from this morning, in those wee hours before dawn! Listen, ponder, enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya.


You’ve got a dangerous background
And everything you’ve dreamed of
Yeah you’re the Dark Angel
It don’t show when you break up
and I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one left in the dust
Yeah I’m the broken-hearted fool
Who was never quite enough

I’m an insider, I been burned by the fire
And I’ve had to live with some hard promises
I’ve crawled through the briars — I’m an insider

It’s a circle of deception
It’s a hall of strangers
It’s a cage without a key
You can feel the danger
And I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one you couldn’t trust
I’m the lonely silent one
I’m the one left in the dust


I’ll bet you’re his masterpiece
I’ll bet you’re his self-control
Yeah you’ll become his legacy
His quiet world of white and gold
And I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one you left to rust
Not one of your twisted friends
I’m the one you couldn’t love


© 1981 Tom Petty

How Do We Get Back There?

First, I want to say once again that I love Instagram. I really do. The degree to which I despise Facebook is the degree to which I love Instagram. And beyond.

People — total strangers — on Instagram are so kind. The same young man who has that page that quoted Neptune & Surf the other day, sent me a meditation download early this morning because I’d had a terrible night — mostly because of pain in my leg where I fell the other day, but also just stress. And this afternoon, I’m being interviewed on one of M. Christian’s podcasts, and we’ll mostly be talking about The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

And all the pain and lack of sleep and stress left me feeling remarkably brain dead. And not in the best shape for an interview.

So the guy (he’s very private so I won’t say too much about him), sent me this wonderful MP3 file to help me meditate and get in better mental shape for the interview. It meant so much to me, you know.  He is always so kind to me, and I’m easily old enough to be his grandmother (okay, well, maybe a really young, youthful, incredibly vibrant grandmother with a seriously bruised thigh…).

And we’ll probably never, ever even meet because he lives far, far away. In the Middle East, in a country where American Jews (by birth, anyway — I don’t practice it anymore) are not likely to ever travel to anymore. Ever. Such is politics.

Anyway, his constant kindness means a lot to me. Especially on this particular morning, which is the anniversary of my friend Paul’s death. 21 years ago today. I miss him so much. He was my best-est friend in the whole entire world, from age 17 on. He was always there for me, always had my back, never ever once fucked with my head or played any fucked up games with me.  And he was also the first in line to let me know when he thought I was going down a bad road, or making a bad decision, or being bitchy. He was always just totally honest with me.

And he was so fucking funny. I miss all of it, so much. There is no one in my life who has come close to taking his place.

When we first found out that he was dying, I began spiraling downward immediately and didn’t come out of it for years.  It took him 7 years to actually die. He deteriorated slowly. But I started in with bourbon immediately. Bourbon in my coffee in the morning, bourbon in the afternoon, cocktails at night. And I started smoking with a vengeance, too. And I hardly ate. And I lost a ton of weight, even though I wasn’t overweight when I started. But I only behaved that way when he wasn’t around. If he was around, I tried to act like I was totally brave, you know?

He lived in a beach house on Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. And toward the end of his life, he and I walked along the beach one winter morning, and he wanted to make sure I was going to be okay when he was gone.

Of course, I lied. I wanted him to feel okay about dying. But I knew I was never going to be all right.

Well, I take care of myself. I survive. I go on. I create, etc., etc. But in all honesty, it has never been the same.

And this is not the frame of mind I want to be in before an interview you know?? I don’t want to go on record saying that life sucks…

So I am trying to get myself together here today.

Well. Blixa Bargeld released a video discussing his upcoming writing plans.  You can watch it on his web site. Or here:

And you can also support his many projects by being a contributing supporter. (€10 a month.)

Also, Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File today, wherein he discusses catastrophe, suffering, the pandemic, creativity, life on Earth and trying to survive it. (I am greatly paraphrasing. You can read it for yourself here, though. It was quite sobering.)

Okay, so. I need to go over some extensive notes Peitor sent me from West Hollywood yesterday, as we get ever closer to resuming production/writing for Abstract Absurdity Productions. And after the interview for the podcast (it’s being pre-recorded — when it is available to download I will let you know!!), I will focus on trying to make some significant headway with “Novitiate.” (My new erotic short story, in progress.)

And I really, really hope I can salvage this weird, weird morning. (Plus, I am once again trying to come to terms with a decision I have to make — that is only going to break my own heart. But I feel like it’s the right thing to do.  But it is hard enough to keep the color in my world as it is. But onward…)

Okay. Have a really good Thursday, wherever you are and with whatever you might be grappling with out there in the world.  I leave you with the song that helped me survive yesterday. (I take it one day at a time, most days.) Even though it made me miss everybody who has passed away, including Tom Petty, it still helped. “Keeping Me Alive” (1982), from off of his posthumous An American Treasure album  (2018). He is so full of life here. All of it was still ahead of him. So enjoy.  All righty. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Keeping Me Alive”

They said love was a thing of the past
That these days nothing ever lasts
This old world is moving too fast

Well sometimes we ride around
She plays her radio up loud
If I was sad, well, I’m happy now

And it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

I got a job, I work hard
These days the money don’t go very far
It’s hard enough keeping gas in the car

But sometimes we ride around
She plays the radio up load
If I was sad, well, I’m happy now

Yeah and it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

And it feels so good to know
I got you where you belong
Here in my heart, right by my side
Honey you’re getting me by
Yeah you’re keeping me alive
Yeah you’re keeping me alive
Yeah you’re keeping me alive

© 1982 Tom Petty

It Was Just One of Those Days Here in Crazeysburg!

Because I fell and bruised my thigh beyond my ability to comprehend (if you are on your computer, you can see my Instagram photo from yesterday down below, which shows the awesome bruise and just how swelled up it got), I wound up spending a huge portion of yesterday in bed.

Not because I couldn’t walk, but because the pain was excruciating.

But today, even though the bruise is obviously still there and still swollen, the pain is really minimal.

And, while CBD oil did nothing to stop that kind of pain, it did calm me the fuck down and made everything in my world seem manageable. And by “manageable” I guess I mean  “just go to bed and stream The Monkees and forget about everything else in the world. ”

Oh, and I should mention here that I wound up liking that documentary, Hey, Hey We’re The Monkees, which I had started watching the other day. It was very informative and emotional.

Anyway. I also slept a lot yesterday, seeing as how I was already in bed. I didn’t get out of bed until after 5am today, which is later than I’ve been doing for quite a few weeks now.

So nothing new has been done to the new short story “Novitiate.” And at this point, if it is getting confusing:

  • The Guitar Hero Goes Home is now available in print with the corrected cover and the corrected text. (Also eBook — Amazon)
  • “Half-Moon Bride” will be available as a stand alone eBook in a few weeks (with my new publisher)
  • 1954 Powder Blue Pickup will be coming out in print before the year is over,  also with my new publisher
  • “Novitiate” will be part of what I currently call The Muse Revisited Vol. 4, which will also include my more popular “taboo erotica” short stories and novellas from the scope of my career. That will come out in print with my new publisher, as well, but probably not until early 2021 (especially if I don’t quit falling down on my kitchen porch).

So that’s what’s going on there, in erotica land.

In non-erotica land, the staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones, will premier online on Sunday evening EST, November 22nd. It will be free, but you will need to RSVP at an eventbrite link, which I will give to you when I have it. And if you miss the premier, you will have a window of maybe 3-5 days to watch it anyway.


So Cave Things announced yesterday that you can pre-order the following really cute picture discs, each have one song on them from Idiot Prayer: Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace, which is being released as an album and also a film in November. Here are the picture discs, drawn by Nick Cave (I believe they are each £30, except that there are only 500 copies in each title, so you need to pre-order right away).

And with that, I’m also gonna close. So have a really nice Wednesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang!! I love you guys. See ya!!








A Gentle Little Sunday in the Hinterlands

Okay, gang. Happy Sunday!

It is so quiet and lovely and autumnal around here this morning. I am really in “slow” mode, just taking it easy.

Oh, guess what? After refusing to get on my bathroom scale for a couple of months now because of all that frustrating COVID 19 weight that I couldn’t seem to budge, I decided to weigh myself today and I’m at my goal weight. The weight I prefer to be at all the time  when there is no fucking virus going around. This means I lost 13 pounds without even trying. So even while the virus is starting to spike again the world over, I lost my stupid COVID weight. Yay.

Before I forget, M. Christian has a reading of a brand new queer/BDSM/cyberpunk story, “Kintsugi,” that just went live on the Nobilis Sci-Fi Erotica Podcast. (Chris is not reading it, Nobilis is reading it.) You can listen to it here:

And speaking of erotica… it was slow-going with “Novitiate” yesterday. (My current erotic short story that is in progress.) (Oh, I also noticed that many typos occur, and one occurred in the excerpt I posted here the other day — where I suddenly call “Paula” by the name of “Paul,” which makes for an interesting and rather abrupt plot twist. However, it is actually just Paula, throughout! I’ve made the correction to the excerpt.)

Anyway, I hope I make better progress with the story today. I know what I want to say, but so many scenes seem to want to collide in my head at once, and not all of them really need to be in the story. So I am having trouble sorting it all out and then getting it onto the page in a way that I actually like.

On a different note, last evening I began streaming a re-edited documentary on The Monkees. (Hey, Hey We’re the Monkees, originally made in 1997.) I’m not sure if I’ll keep watching it or not. Two of the Monkees are now dead (Davy Jones and Peter Tork), and who knows if the remaining two have now changed their view on the whole experience. But I think I might just like to keep enjoying the reruns and remembering how happy that show made me in my childhood.

Amazon.com: The Hey, Hey We're the Monkees: The Monkees, Davy Jones,  Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, Paul Mazursky, Ward Sylvester,  Peter Noone, Don Kirshner, Bobby Hart, Jeff Barry, Chip Douglas, David

I did already know that the actors were not 100% happy with the experience of being a “Monkee”, but I’m not sure I need to know every single bit of it. We’ll see, I guess. (For instance, Mike Nesmith has maintained over the years that the album More of the Monkees was one of the worst albums in the history of the world. When, in fact, it is one of the best. And back in the early 1980s, when I was a folksinger in Greenwich Village, Peter Tork sometimes played one of the clubs I played at, and he was really just a basket case, mentally, at that point in his life. And it stemmed from the whole Monkees experience.)

And I never did get to finish watching the Ronnie Wood documentary last week, which kind of sucks. Because it wasn’t my fault that the darn stream kept buffering until it finally just froze up. And then I never got time to get back to it during that window of 72 hours. However, I did really love the Bill Wyman documentary, and that Brian Jones documentary, sad as it was. So I guess I’ll survive!

Okay. I think that’s really it for today, gang. I guess I will get my Sunday morning started here (I’ve actually been up for 6 hours already, so that gives you an idea of just how slow I am taking things today!) I hope you have a wonderful Sunday going on, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting.  I leave you with a song I’ve left you with many times before, but it always makes me feel really good about Tom Petty, so here it is again. “You and Me,” from off of his Last DJ album of 2002. All righty, enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

Still Alive & Well!!

Yes! I am talking about the petunias!

There is a layer of frost on my grown-up car this morning. There is frost on the rooftops. Frost on the lawns and on all the autumn leaves lying all over the lawns. And yet, the petunias are doing just fine.

I guess it has to be a real killer “killer frost” to faze these petunias.

So that was a sort of little happy burst of wonder when I went downstairs for breakfast this morning at 4am.

I also saw that another new song was dropped for the upcoming album, Idiot Prayer: Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace. And this one is actually a new song — “Euthanasia.” It was in my Amazon music library this morning. I just love this song. It is so pretty.

And while I’m thinking of it, I forgot to post yesterday that Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand File on Thursday that was very interesting, regarding a reader’s concerns about Narcotics Anonymous and stemming the seemingly endless tide of heroin addiction. You can read it here.

And also this morning, someone from Europe that I follow on Instagram, who only posts photos and quotes (in English) of various  writers and poets from all over the world, asked if he could quote me on his page today. I was so flattered. In all honesty, I love his page because I have found out about some really interesting writers and poets from South America and Europe by following his page.

He quoted from the ending of Neptune & Surf, and I sent him a photo of me, taken by Valerie while we were at Coney Island. This was during the years that I was actually writing Neptune & Surf. (N & S takes place on Coney Island in 1955.) (The photo is from 1994 or 1995.)

Since I now know how to capture people’s Instagram feeds, I share it with you here. (I really was so touched, gang.)

So my morning has been off to a pretty good start around here today.

I’m planning on just spending the day working on the new erotic short story, “Novitiate.” I’m at one of those junctures where the story begins to just go off the charts in terms of the eroticism, so it requires 110,000,000 % of my concentration.  (Luckily, I’m not prone to exaggerate, otherwise I’d probably throw some really huge number out there…)

Okay, now, on a more serious note.  I have to very soberly question what’s up with the new Tom Petty album — Wild Flowers & All the Rest. Slavish devotee of Tom Petty’s that I am, he (and Rick Rubin, the producer) had said over the years that there were something like 25 additional songs that were not included on the original album, but that Tom Petty had wanted to release on a follow-up to Wildflowers some day.

And this new album has been touted for many, many months (years?) as that album. However, even while there are 54 (!!) songs on this new album, there are only 6 (!!) songs on this collection that I would consider to be actually new, never-heard-before songs.

There are many songs that are never-before-heard versions of songs we already know — meaning they are his home demos. Or perhaps songs with their original lyrics, that wound up changing when the songs were eventually released on other albums. Or “live” versions of songs, etc.

But there are only 6 songs that I don’t recall ever hearing before, ever.  So where are the other 19 or so “brand new songs”?

I’m wondering if, next October, when we once more commemorate the anniversary of his death, they will be releasing the all-new Oops We Forgot to Include These follow-up to the follow-up of Wildflowers

I’m not 100% super happy about this, gang.

Anyway.  On we go, right?

Okay, sometime next week, I think I will finally be a guest on one of M. Christian’s podcasts (he co-hosts two podcasts), discussing The Guitar Hero Goes Home, and probably also talking positively about sex-positive topics. I will keep you posted!! I will try hard to speak like a grown-up. We shall see if I succeed or not. (Although I have already told them I will discuss anything except politics and the virus. So I’m not sure if there are any grown-up topics left…)

Regardless, I’m excited!!

Okay, let me get started here, folks. I hope you have a great Saturday underway, wherever you are in the world! I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning. I was once again back to More of The Monkees! This one, another great tune penned by Mike Nesmith, a member of the group, “The Kind of Girl I Could Love”.  I truly love this song, it is so upbeat (well, I love the whole album). Play it loud. And enjoy. Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!!

“The Kind Of Girl I Could Love”

Girl, you look mighty good to me
And I know that you’ve got to be
The kind of girl I could love.

You’ve got the sweetest pair of eyes
And your kiss would be paradise
The kind of girl I could love.

You do something to my soul
That no one’s ever done.
If you’re looking for true love
Then let me be the one.

Girl, deep in my soul I’m sure
And my heart has no doubt that you’re
The kind of girl I could love.
The kind of girl I could love.
[Repeat and fade]

© 1967 Michael Nesmith, Roger Atkins

Excerpt from “Novitiate”

Okay, gang, well even though I sent a one-page excerpt from “Half-Moon Bride” to the publisher today,  I am not going to post it here on the blog because that story is so insane, that reading any part of it separate from the complete story just makes it sound like the weirdest piece of pornography ever.

Eventually, you will be able to read the excerpt on the publisher’s website, but until then, you’ll just have to take my word for it — “Half-Moon Bride” is insane. (Of course, I mean that in the best possible way…)

I have decided, however, to post an excerpt from the new short story that I’m writing, “Novitiate.” This is toward the beginning of the story, and amounts to about  5pages. The story will run about 30 pages, total, so there is a whole lot more that happens after this. But these opening pages introduce you to the 2 main characters, Paula and Dave. It is Summer 1966, just before the 4th of July. Paula is soon going to be willingly initiated into a secret Group that Dave belongs to, one that believes in Free Love, group sex, gang bangs, etc.

Again, this is sexually graphic material and won’t be suitable for all readers, so please be forewarned!! Thank you!!


(This is a work in progress! Please excuse any typos.)

Excerpted from “Novitiate”
© 2020 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Dave kissed her some more and now let his hand slide down inside her cotton panties, his fingers slipping into her pussy hair. She had her legs spread wide for him now. He could feel that she was already wet. “Don’t forget about Terri,” he warned her. “She’s pretty rough, you know. Worse than most of the guys.”

“I know,” Paula said quietly.

“She’s going to try to humiliate you in front of all of them. But just keep up with her. Let her have her way. Do whatever she tells you to do. Because I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What?” Paula was all ears.

“The guys love to see girls get humiliated by Terri. And if you can take what she dishes out, they are really gonna go for you. Plus, when some other girl gets initiated into the group, maybe it’ll be your turn to humiliate that one. You think you’d like that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been with a girl.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“Even though you go to that fancy college for girls? I thought they all got into serious pussy in those private girls’ schools.” Dave playfully slid his fingers around between her slippery pussy lips to emphasize his point.

“Well, if they do,” Paula confessed softly, spreading her legs wider, “they haven’t been doing it with me.”

“Uh-oh. It looks like we have an audience,” Dave whispered to Paula suddenly.

It was the two guys from behind the Dairy Queen – they were still smoking cigarettes but now they’d wandered into the field; they were blatantly watching Dave and Paula make out.

“You know them, though, right?” Paula asked.

“Yeah. A little. They’re harmless – just horny. What do you think, should we give them a show?”

“You mean, make out in front of them?”

“Yeah, but you know – show some real skin. Get down and dirty. You want to?”

Actually, the idea really appealed to Paula, but she didn’t want to come right out and say it. “If you want to,” she said.

“Let’s do it. It’ll be good practice for you. But let’s act like we don’t see them. It’ll make for a better show.”

They resumed kissing, acting as if they were the only two people for miles.

Bravely, Paula started it, by inching her dress up to her waist, so that it would be easy for them to see her summer legs – tanned and bare, except for her sandals – and that Dave’s hand was down inside her pink panties.

Paula moaned into Dave’s kisses then, really swirling her tongue around in his mouth. Until this very moment, having an audience while making out had only been a thing she’d fantasized about – now her heart was actually beginning to race. Dave couldn’t help but notice the sudden difference in Paula’s kisses. She was always a good kisser, but this was different. He figured that if Paula got this excited over showing her panties to a couple of guys who were watching from a distance – wait until she’s actually showing her pussy, he thought. And then he figured that she was going to do just fine at the Group’s campground, at the center of an all-out gangbang for an entire week’s initiation.

Feeling inspired, he took his hand out of Paula’s panties, sat up and then pulled her panties straight down – all the way to her ankles.

“Dave!” Paula gasped, hoping that the guys hadn’t heard her. She was trying to appear blasé about all this, but she hadn’t been expecting him to do that.

He worked her panties free of her little summer sandals and tossed them beside her onto the grass.

“There, that’s better,” he said quietly as he laid down next to her again. “This’ll keep them interested.” Then he lightly kissed her face, whispering, “Spread those legs wide again, baby. Give them a good look.”

Paula did as he told her to do. She parted her legs again, but showing her pussy now, and she knew she was the center of attention; she could literally feel their eyes from across the field, trying to look between her legs. She was so excited now, that when Dave’s fingers went up her hole, it felt electrifying.

They kissed like that for a while – mashing their tongues together like crazy, with Dave’s fingers up Paula’s hole. And he was doing that thing he did – getting his fingers in deep and rubbing them around up there, while pressing the palm of his hand right up against her stiff little clit – rubbing it at the same time. It always felt so good when he did that. It made Paula spread her legs wider while they kissed. She was rocking her pussy hole all over Dave’s fingers now.

“Is this enough?” Dave finally said. “Should I tell them to leave? Or do you want to keep going?”

“Let’s keep going,” she whispered. “At least for a little bit.”

“Okay, baby,” Dave said quietly, easing his fingers out of her pussy. “Why don’t you lean over me a little so that I can unzip the back of your dress.”

Dave laid down in the grass and Paula leaned over him to give his mouth some more of her tongue, while he reached behind her and unzipped her sundress.

And while he was at it, he unhooked her bra, too.

It was too exciting. Paula almost couldn’t believe it. She knew what Dave was going to do; he was going to pull down the top of her dress so that he could suck her nipples and fool around with her tits. They did this kind of thing all the time, but never with an audience.

As casually as she could, she sat up and let Dave slide her sundress down her arms and then push it down around her waist. Then he slid her bra off of her, too.

She was completely topless. Her tits just right out there – naked – for both of those guys to see.

Dave pulled her back down onto the grass and began sucking on her tits. First one nipple, then the other, then back again. While his fingers went right back up her slick hole, his palm rubbing against her clit again.

Oh my god, Paula moaned quietly; her nipples were always so sensitive, but this time, it felt unbelievable. Her tits in Dave’s mouth. Her pussy hole full of Dave’s busy fingers while her legs were spread. She always loved making out with Dave, but having this sudden audience made her feel so – she wasn’t sure what: erotic. That’s what it was. To be watched felt so erotic.

“Come here,” Dave suddenly said, grabbing her by the thigh and pulling her over on top of him, until she was straddling him. Then he pulled her head down to his, to suck some more of her tongue, but making sure the bottom of her dress was bunched up high around her waist now, giving their audience of two an impressive view of Paula’s wide-open pussy.

“You like that?” he asked her quietly. “Knowing they can see you down there?”

“Mm hm,” she said, starting to breathe heavy. Truthfully, she was nervous, but so horny. She couldn’t believe how exciting it felt – to be spread open and on view to whoever was behind her; to whoever wanted to see. She didn’t care now if there was a whole crowd of guys, just as long as they wanted to see.

“Are we going to go all out?” he said.

“If you want to.”

“You want me to take my dick out and we can just start fucking – with you riding it? Or you could turn around and suck my dick for a while. I bet that would probably give them a real thrill.”

She hadn’t thought of that. She was completely game. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Trying not to look directly at them, she turned herself around and straddled Dave – just facing away from him now. Her bare tits were totally on display while she unbuckled Dave’s belt, then unzipped his jeans and took out his cock. It was thick and erect and she gave it a couple of strokes – trying to be casual, trying to give them a good show. Then, taking her time, she leaned down and began to suck it – to actually suck Dave’s dick in front of those guys. She sucked it in and out of her mouth; nice and slow, up and down, up and down; with her tits just right out there and her nipples hard.

Two total strangers, she thought. Strangers to her, anyway. Watching her. Watching her suck Dave’s dick.

The sun was already sinking lower in the sky, but Paula figured it was still light enough for the two guys to see what they wanted to see. And then to her delight, Dave slid Paula’s hips down towards his face, until her pussy was planted right on his mouth.

With or without an audience, that felt incredible.

It was a first for Paula.

Dave had already eaten her out a number of times this summer – more than any other guy ever had, making her actually come with just his tongue. And in return, she’d given him blowjobs – he’d even told her she was good at it, sometimes coming in her mouth and she would swallow it. But this position – where they both did it to each other at the same time? This was brand new for Paula and it felt so good. And to have an audience for it! An audience of two horny guys.

Dave had her spread wide back there, keeping her clit exposed and licking it, wiggling her clit with his tongue – just the way she liked it. It was the thing she fantasized about, alone in her bed at night, hours after a date with Dave had ended. She was always able to make herself come a second time with her fingers – thinking about him licking her down there and how crazy it always felt to come in his mouth. No other guys she’d dated were ever that patient. Dave was the first guy who kept at it with his tongue until she came.

But tonight – she was in no hurry to come. Tonight, it was the show that mattered more. And if Dave didn’t ease up on her clit, she was going to come

“What’s the matter?” Dave asked quietly, as Paula scooted off his face.

“Nothing,” she said, turning around now to face him again. “I just don’t want to come yet.”

He laughed at her. “I’ve never seen you this horny. You really like to be watched, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess. This is my first time.”

“Those guys are getting pretty close to us – did you know that?”

“No,” she replied coyly, as she scooted all the way down between Dave’s legs and took his dick in her mouth again – only this time, she was on her knees in the grass with her naked ass in the air.

“Oh fuck,” Dave laughed again. “You’re not being fair to them, you know?”

Paula didn’t answer him. She was too busy sucking his stiff dick in and out of her mouth, and pushing her ass out, making sure it was easy to see her soaking pussy.

Oh god,” he groaned. “Paula, I’m gonna fucking come – you are totally turning me on right now.” He pushed her head off of him; he wanted to catch his breath. “Those guys are looking right at your pussy. They’re going to come over here.”

Paula stayed on her knees between Dave’s legs, kept her ass arched and her pussy right out there. “What should I do if they do?” she asked him quietly.

“Whatever you want, baby. I’m right here. No one’s going to hurt you. Do you feel like fucking a couple of guys tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

“Well decide,” he told her, “because they’re coming right over here. You guys want something?” he called out to them.

Too nervous now to even move, Paula stayed planted between Dave’s legs, his hard dick right in front of her face, her pussy wide open and in the air. She was too nervous to even turn around and look at the guys, but she knew they were standing right there – right there – and that they could see everything.

“We just wanted to look,” one of the guys said. “It didn’t seem like you guys cared that we could see you.”

And the other one echoed, “Yeah, man, we just wanted to look.”

Dave replied, “You just wanted to watch her suck my cock? Or did you actually want to fuck her?”

Paula couldn’t believe her ears. She blushed and smiled at Dave and then took his dick back into her mouth. It was all she could think of to do. But she made sure to suck it nice and slow again.

“Oh fuck,” the first guy said. “You mean, we could actually fuck her?”

In response, Paula scooted her knees a little farther apart in the grass.

“She seems willing,” Dave told him.

“Oh fuck,” the guy said again. “Oh fuck, yeah, I’ll fuck her! If she wants it, I’ll fuck her.”

Paula couldn’t believe it was happening. She heard the guy unzip his jeans. She was too worked up now to so much as glance at him, afraid that she’d come to her senses if she made eye contact with either one of them; she tried to just focus on sucking Dave’s dick. He was getting so hard.

Her mouth sucked it steadily in and out, in and out. Her head moving nice and slow – up and down, up and down.

And then it was really happening – the guy was kneeling behind her, and his dick was actually going into her. He was guiding it in, pushing it, and then his stiff cock opened her soaking pussy hole all the way up. And it felt so good! A total stranger was down on his knees behind her, sticking his dick in her pussy and fucking her. Really fucking her! She couldn’t believe it.

Mmm, she moaned, her mouth full of Dave’s thick cock.

The guy held tight to her hips as he pounded his cock pretty hard into her hole. Paula moaned and groaned all over Dave’s dick. Really sucking it now while the guy fucked her like crazy.

“Oh shit,” Dave suddenly said. And he grabbed Paula’s head and began pumping his dick quickly into her mouth. She could barely keep up with it. “Oh shit, oh yeah,” he said. “Suck my dick, suck my dick.” And then he was coming in Paula’s mouth! It happened that fast. She tried to swallow it down but she felt overwhelmed; the guy was fucking her so hard now. “Oh fuck, yeah,” the guy was saying. “Fucking yeah – look at her suck that cock.”  And the force of his fucking – it was making her grunt uncontrollably – how was she supposed to swallow Dave’s cum when that guy behind her was fucking her so hard?

But she tried. She swallowed what she could but mostly she just made a big mess all over the crotch of Dave’s jeans. Oh oh oh, she grunted repeatedly now. It felt so good.

The guy was coming in her. Coming. Already. And fucking her so hard. He slammed it into her pussy. Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, he kept saying.

Paula was looking right at Dave now, while the guy behind her pounded her pussy relentlessly. Oh god, oh yeah, she said, over and over, panting and grunting in rhythm to the guy’s cock jerking up inside her, unloading his cum in her. She couldn’t help it. It felt incredible. Oh god, she grunted again. While Dave smiled at her and sort of shook his head.

Then, just as quickly as the guy had come in her, he was finished and pulled out. And to her surprise, Dave said, “Next?”

Oh god, she thought. Oh god. She couldn’t believe it.

But it was happening. She heard the next guy unzipping his jeans now. Only now, Dave was putting his own dick back inside his jeans and he moved out from under Paula and now he sat right in front of her and just watched, as the second total stranger planted himself between her spread knees and pushed his cock right into her hole.

“Oh shit,” she said softly, because now it was just her, alone, on her elbows and knees out in the field, her entire dress bunched around her waist as she got herself fucked from behind by another stranger – while Dave sat and watched.

“Oh fuck,” she said a little louder – because this second guy’s cock was kind of big; it was really stretching her open back there. And he had a tight hold on her hips, making sure she was taking every inch of him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she said again, over and over. She was really getting a pounding now. And her pussy was taking every bit of it. “Shit,” she spluttered now. “Shit!”

Then the first guy came into view and sat down in the grass next to Dave. Paula couldn’t help but look right at both of them as they lit a couple of cigarettes and then just sat there and smoked, and watched her get fucked.

Oh god, oh god, yes – she chanted, even though now she was kind of embarrassed by how good it felt. And the guy didn’t seem anywhere close to coming. Fuck, fuck, she panted. “Oh fuck!” – the guy drove into her pussy hard that time and got in there too deep. Shit! she cried.

She planted her knees farther apart to steady herself. Yeah, yeah, oh fuck.

It was the hardest fucking she had ever gotten; her fingers were digging into the grass now to try to hold on. Each time the guy hammered his cock into her hole, her knees slid farther along the grass, so he would grab her hips tighter and pull her right back. “Oh shit!” she cried, again and again, as the stranger’s cock went in, over and over, going way too deep. Really nailing her hole each time and stretching her pussy beyond belief.

And he wouldn’t come. He just wouldn’t come. He was having the time of his life, fucking Paula’s tight little pussy until she didn’t think she could take it anymore.

And Dave and the other guy sat and smoked and watched every second of it.

The fireflies were starting to rise up out of the field and the sun was almost gone from the sky now. And every time the guys took drags on their cigarettes, the little fireballs glowed bright red in front of her.

Oh oh oh oh, Paula grunted out uncontrollably with every punishing thrust. She felt delirious. The guy simply wouldn’t come. Until suddenly, the guy fell down on top of her, pushing her naked tits right into the grass, and, her legs spread so wide now, he pinned her down under his weight and hammered into her hole so hard and so fast that she had no doubt he was finally coming.

And the fact that he was hollering, “Fuck! Shit! Shit!” right in her ear, was only some noisy extra proof.

Excerpted from “Novitiate”
© 2020 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

A Glorious Thursday Before the Frost!

Yes, tomorrow is allegedly bringing with it a killer frost, and so I will be bidding a fond adieu to all my petunias today.

Even though I don’t usually grow petunias, because of the virus, I wasn’t able to get what I usually like to plant in the flower boxes on the porches. However, the petunias made me really, really happy this summer. Just a constant riot of color — not to mention one of the flower boxes on the front porch served as home base to my lovely toad. (Through his impeccable patience, I eventually learned how to not water his head when watering the petunias…) (Nobody stares at you quite as patiently as a toad with water on his head.)

And in honor of tomorrow bringing the first real frost, today is an amazingly lovely fall day.  Cool but not cold, sunny, with gorgeous leaves everywhere — most of them still on the trees for as far as the eye can see.

And I’m doing laundry. This is the time of year where I start to bring out the flannel sheets for my own bed – the bottom sheet, only. I don’t usually need all the flannel sheets until closer to Thanksgiving (late fall).

So everything is changing and I am doing totally okay with it. I’m not morbidly missing the summer. (We’ll see how tomorrow goes — the “new” Tom Petty album drops tomorrow. It might make me really sad and really miss the summer, but we’ll just wait and see.)

Tom Petty Wildflowers & All the Rest

I keep thinking that, one of these days, life will just be fine and I’ll be okay with everything that comes my way. (I’ve been thinking this for 60 years now, but that fact should not cloud our judgment! Today could end up being the very day when suddenly I am forever totally okay with everything…)


Well, the publisher needs an excerpt from “Half-Moon Bride” to put on their website, and they suggest that it be, you know — erotic. To get people to want to read more of the story (i.e., to buy it).

So I’m reading it over for the first time since I wrote it, trying to process this whole insane story. It is just, like, pornographic from start to finish, gang, so where do you jump in and create an “excerpt”? You kind of have to read it from start to finish, to get any real grasp on it. Separating out even the smallest segment of it just ends up seeming like utterly insane porn, in my opinion.  (Two hermaphrodites on their wedding night; one extremely giant-sized, the other one rather petite (and a truly clueless virgin). And if you don’t know those facts ahead of time, then it really comes off sounding insane.) (i.e., the clueless virgin loses her virginity while trying to come to terms with also suddenly having a P-spot and her first erection…) (aka: the joys of hermaphrodite sex!!)

9,384 Laughing High Res Illustrations - Getty Images

But the publisher needs me to do this ASAP, because they asked for it last week, so I need to figure out an “excerpt” that will not make me seem like the most insane writer in the annals of recorded history.

Once I do that, I will get back to work on the newest erotic short story around here, “Novitiate.” (If I can come up with excerpts from either story that seem tame enough for the blog, I will post them this evening. We’ll see!)

And over at Cave Things, a new charm is coming soon that I’m sure you’ll want to grab as soon as it’s available:

Isn’t that cute?? I’m guessing it will cost about £300 (plus shipping) and sell out in about ten minutes…

All right, well. I need to go downstairs and check on that laundry and finish making the bed. I hope you have a lovely Thursday wherever you are in the world and in whatever season it is where you are!! I leave you with my driving  to town & back music from yesterday. This is such a great song for driving really fast on an almost empty highway, with blue skies and gorgeous fall trees all around you for miles and miles and miles. I hadn’t listened to this song in years.  Rod Stewart’s legendary version of “Rhythm of My Heart,” from his 1991 album, Vagabond.  Needless to say, to get the full effect of this song, you have to turn the volume up to eleven

Okay!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I might be back tonight to regale you with brand-new literary “erotica”. We’ll see how it goes. I love you guys. See ya!

“Rhythm Of My Heart”

Across the street the river runs
Down in the gutter life is slipping away
Let me still exist in another place
Running under cover of a helicopter blade

The flames are getting higher in effigy
Burning down the bridges of my memory
Love may still be alive somewhere someway
where they’re downing only deer
a hundred steel towns away

Oh the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue
No never will I roam for I know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky
I’ll be sailing

Photographs and kerosene light up my darkness
light it up, light it up
I can still feel the touch of your thin blue jeans
Running down the alley I’ve got my eyes all over you baby
Oh baby

Oh the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue
No never will I roam for I know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky I’ll be sailing
I’ll be sailing

Oh I’ve got lightning in my veins
shifting like the handle of a slot machine
Love may still exist in another place
I’m just yanking back the handle
no expression on my face

Oh the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue
Never will I roam for I know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky
I’ll be sailing

Oh the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue
No never will I roam for I know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky
I’ll be sailing

The rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue
Never will I roam for I know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky
I’ll be sailing

© 1986 Traditional;  & John Capek, Marc Jordan

I Actually Have Nothing to Say!

I spent the entire day yesterday at my desk, working on “Novitiate” — the new erotic short story — and so nothing new has occurred since I blogged here yesterday morning.

I did not even have time to watch the rest of the Ronnie Wood documentary, Somebody Up There Likes Me (and if I don’t get to it here soon, I will miss my window and won’t be able to watch it without paying for it again).

I was writing clear through last night, right up until it was time to do yoga and then collapse in bed.

I’m only at 6000 words in the new story, but I’m finding that I have to keep going over and over and over these first 7 pages, because after that, it’s going to become extremely complicated. (It goes from 2 primary characters up to 15, and all of them are having sex at one point or another, so that’s gonna get kind of complicated.) So those first 7 pages have to lay some sort of believable groundwork for the remaining insanity.

I’m still really loving the story, though. And I am learning more about it  every moment that I work on it — meaning, it reveals itself to me, more and more, as I continue to streamline these first few pages. I’m finding it so interesting. And so different from what I thought it was first trying to be.

I think I mentioned a few days ago that now the editors don’t really want “Half-Moon Bride” in this story collection. They want to offer it as a stand-alone short story (eBook only). I will let them make the final decision. But the more I work on “Novitiate,” the more I think that “Half-Moon Bride” doesn’t really fit with the other stories that will be in this collection.  So perhaps it is best sold on its own.

Other than that microscopic world of mine…

The petunias are still blooming. It’s amazing. 5 months now, and no end in sight. I’m guessing they will keep right on blooming up until the first frost. But it is so weird to see the porches of all my neighbors and all that autumnal stuff going on there, for as far as the eye can see. And even though I cleared off my front porch and my back stoop, my kitchen porch is still a riot of blooming colors because I concentrated all the flower boxes there. And I really feel like I’m in some sort of time warp here — or “season” warp. (And, God knows, that in my mind, I’m always thinking it’s still summer, so it doesn’t help when everything in and around my house only encourages my misinterpretation  of the entire world.)

I can’t emphasize enough how different my life got when I moved into this house (going on 3 years now). It’s all good, but it’s all strange. I really, really do love living here, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life,  but my life has gotten more and more dissociated. And even though I’m sort of accustomed to being in a dissociated mental state (for a variety of reasons), when my house starts joining me in that, it gets really difficult to explain.

You know, when I first walked through this house, I felt so much happiness in every room. I really did. And I just knew that people had been really happy here. (The house is now 119 years old — when it was first built, there was no electricity, no central heat, and no running water. Two bathrooms were eventually added on, many decades apart. And the well outside was covered up, and the fireplaces that were in every room were eventually covered up.) I still believe that people were happy here — and I still believe really strongly that at least one spirit connected to building this house is actively around here.

But I was reading recently, in a metaphysical type book, that what we perceive about a place is our own future happiness. We are perceiving the happiness of our future selves. Which I think could be true, too. I’m certainly incredibly happy here. But I do think it’s a bit of both.

Anyway, that said. Come visit!! I need help cleaning out the barn…

All righty. I’m going to get moving here. Maybe watch the rest of the Ronnie Wood documentary. Or maybe work on the new story, or maybe sit and stare and drink my coffee for a while. We shall see. (Smart money is on the latter, I think.)

Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a great Monday unfolding before you, wherever you are in the world. I’m still in a More of the Monkees frame of mind around here, so I leave you with another great song off that album, one that still brought tears to my eyes this morning, even 53 years later… “Sometime in the Morning” (1967). Listen, relax, ponder, and enjoy. I love you guys, See ya!

Wow! What A Difference Not Eating Broccoli Makes!!

First of all, I’m in a much better mood today, gang — like, 1000%.

Part of it was that I wasn’t actually feeling so great yesterday. (In addition to the emotional weirdness brought on by the chairs — see yesterday’s post, if you so desire. Otherwise — onward; don’t look back!!)

I take a lot of digestive enzyme supplements and probiotics  in order to be able to digest broccoli. I don’t actually like broccoli, but I have noticed an amazing difference in how my brain focuses after eating broccoli, so for YEARS, I have tried to eat broccoli (blanched) at least once a day. But I can’t digest it.

Well, then I noticed that none of the digestive enzyme-type things were actually helping — and in fact, some new ones I was taking seemed to be making matters worse.  I was in abdominal pain for about 24 hours. And then, finally, yesterday, it occurred to me to just stop eating broccoli. So I didn’t eat it. And without eating broccoli, I no longer needed all the extra enzyme stuff to try to digest it.

And today, I feel 100% fine.

Can you believe it took me that long to figure out that I should just stop eating broccoli??? It is so weird, the things we force ourselves to believe sometimes — i.e., broccoli is good for me so I need to eat it.

Anyway. Even though I felt truly horrible all day yesterday, I did get some great work done on the new erotic short story, “Novitiate,” so I’m hoping that today will be the same.

It’s turning out to be a very interesting story — it’s taking on a shape and tone that I hadn’t really expected at first. So my decision to get out of the story’s way, and stop being an emotional roadblock to it, turned out to be a really good idea.

I tell you, gang — stories really do know how to tell themselves if we can get out of their ways and just write.

I’m also finding that The Monkees’ records make a terrific soundtrack for writing “Novitiate” by — the story takes place in the summer of 1966, on the cusp of Free Love and those kinds of ideas. And for me, those old Monkees’ records have the perfect sound for that era, since I listened to those records a lot from 1966-1968.  I’m finding that the second album, specifically — More of the Monkees — just lets the whole story open up in my head. (More of the Monkees is actually a really, really great album. It was recorded in 1966 and then released in January 1967. It’s the album that has their fantastic version of Neil Diamond’s “I’m A Believer” on it.)

The Monkees -- More Of The Monkees (1967) Full Album | The monkees, Rock  album covers, Album covers

So I am once again in a really good place.

I did get a chance to listen to the first piece off the upcoming Nick Cave – Nicholas Lens collaboration, L.I.T.A.N.I.E.S (due in December). The piece is titled “Litany of The Forsaken.” It’s quite hypnotic, although I’m not 100% sure, yet, what it’s about.

Nick Cave and Nicholas Lens Collaborate on New Opera L.I.T.A.N.I.E.S |  Pitchfork

I also rented the new documentary film on Ronnie Wood, the Mike Figgis-directed  Somebody Up There Like’s Me.

Somebody Up There Likes Me - The Fellowship and Star

I watched about 20 wonderful minutes of it last evening, when suddenly the buffering would not cease. I’m guessing thousands of people all over the place were streaming it at once. (Saturday night, 8pm.) So I’m going to try to watch the rest of it at a less popular movie-streaming time. I was really enjoying it, so, that on top of not feeling well sort of sucked.

But ever onward we go, right?

Okay. So, I’m gonna get started here. I hope your Sunday is shaping up to be a really great one, wherever you are in the world!! I’m leaving you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning, “Mary Mary” from  More of the Monkees. It was actually written by Mike Nesmith in 1966 — he was one of the Monkees. It’s a great song, guys. So turn it up! Listen and try not to dance!!!! (Full disclosure: I was dancing all over the kitchen this morning at 5am, in my PJs, while listening to this and feeding the cats!!) All righty. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

In Honor of World Mental Health Day, I Guess

My mood is totally tanking around here.

I awoke in a reasonably good mental space. Not 100% sure why it’s tanking — and tanking so rapidly. But I think it has something to do with the  2 chairs I acquired yesterday.

This is not one of the chairs but they look exactly like this:

Antique Ladder Back Chair with Rush Seat | Antique ladder, Ladder back  chairs, Chair

I love ladder back chairs, and the 2 that I got yesterday are really old and really well made.

They came from that little house across Basin Street from me. The son was getting rid of what little was left in the house, and I was, like,  “You’re kidding! Two extremely well-made chairs that I love, just for free? Just like that?”

And of course, I was also thinking: What a relief. You can never have enough chairs for the dining room, once you put the leaf in the table. You always need extra chairs.

And I was really just so happy to have these chairs. And I put them in the dining room, against the wall, and I was just really happy. They are so well-made.

And then this morning, it was that thing that happens to me all the time — where I realize that the world in my head has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the life I actually live nowadays. I don’t need more chairs. No one ever comes to visit me. I never have dinner parties anymore. And it has nothing to do with COVID, either.  On those rare times when my birth mom comes here, or my sister comes over, we always sit at the kitchen table. Other than that, no one ever comes over and the other rooms in my house are occupied only by cats. (The cats have not said, yet, whether or not they like the new chairs.)

Anyway, I guess that sort of started me on a little downward spiral. Not so  much the idea that I don’t entertain anymore (or even cook), but the idea that the world in my head is so different from the world I’m actually living in, in the physical.  Even though I know this has been happening to me — I’d even say “increasingly” — since moving into this house, sometimes it really just jolts me. The old life is gone. Even though the life I have now is the one I actually love, the old life is gone and probably isn’t coming back.

It’s just a weird feeling.

I must add here that the latest virus stats were released for this area yesterday, and the county where I do all my marketing had a slight resurgence — 177 active cases (this is still really good compared to where it was at all summer). But here in Muskingum County, we have only 99 active cases, and here in the zip code area where I live (a zip code is an area serviced by one specific post office), we have zero active cases. Yay!! And Muskingum County has still only had 3 deaths from the virus since the outbreak. (This compares to 166,000 currently active cases of the virus in the entire State of Ohio, and a total of 5000 deaths, overall.)

So, you know, this weird world I live in in my head, where everything is just really beautiful all the time, is compounded by the fact that Muskingum County exists in some sort of make-believe place, too.

The whole thing is just really weird.

I don’t suppose there is any real harm, at this point, in living 2 parallel lives that will never meet: the one in my head, and the physical one that I “live.” And I don’t suppose there’s any real harm in the fact that I seem to be regressing way past 12, to about 7 or 8 years old now — judging strictly by my current daily/nightly interests in life (see a post from a few days ago).  (BTW, I am finally remembering to do yoga at night now, but I only do it while I’m streaming reruns of The Monkees.)

The main thing that really sticks out in all this is, of course, my really grown-up car.

In the past few days, I have gotten several very nice compliments about my car. (The molten lava -colored Honda Civic that still looks brand-new but is in fact a year old now. Like me, the car is curiously not aging.) Even though I accept the compliments about my car graciously, it was foisted upon me by the Honda dealership. Plus, I think that St. Christopher (to whom I actively pray whenever I get into any moving vehicle), had some sort of hand in getting me that car because he probably thought it was dangerous enough to have a 12-to-7 year-old girl out driving, she should at least have a safe car (that is sparkly red and goes really fast).

Anyway, it all adds up to me just feeling really crazy;  as if “reality” and “me” do not seem to ever intertwine anymore. And, actually, maybe we never did.

It gets a little depressing.  I’m making sort of a joke about it here on the blog, but I am starting to find it a little alarming in my non-blog life. That said, though, life does indeed go on.

I’m planning to spend the entire day at my desk working on the new erotic short story, “Novitiate.” Try to move that forward because, so far, I’m not making the progress on it that I would like to make.  I still find that I’m battling myself a little bit in how to put this story onto the page. Not so much censoring myself, as trying to determine if where the story keeps wanting to go makes any real sense.  And rather than trusting in the process of the story’s innate knowing of itself, I have decided to become some sort of roadblock to that unfolding.

And I really wish I would stop doing that. I am hoping today will be the Big Day where I can get out of the story’s way.

(I guess that being a roadblock to anything can also be a source of depression.)

So I’m hoping that today will be a day for moving on. If we were to judge it solely by how I’m feeling right now, well — it’s not looking too promising but the day is young!

Okay. Yesterday, Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File that was really moving. You can read it here. And the Nick Cave Instagram site released an announcement that a collaborative album he made with the Belgian composer, Nicholas Lens — titled L.I.T.A.N.I.E.S — will be released in early December, and one piece from it has already dropped: “Litany of the Forsaken.”

(And do yourself an enormous favor, if you go searching for the album on Amazon, remove all those periods between each letter, otherwise you will make yourself fucking insane and never find it.)

Okay!!! On that happy note…

I’m outta here. I hope you have a better Saturday underway, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang!! Today, I leave you with my anthem — okay, maybe not my actual anthem. I don’t think I really have one. But it will probably be played at my funeral, or at the very least, my wake. I’m sort of a “medium” U2 fan. I have several of their albums. But I’m not, like, a huge fan.  But I do love this song — it’s probably my favorite of theirs: “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” (1987, off The Joshua Tree). So I leave you with that. Enjoy. Lyrics are in the video. I love you guys. See ya.