Tag Archives: Novitiate by 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.

Okay, I Confess!

I do not seem capable of not posting to the fucking blog in the  morning!!!

Plus, I wanted to move yoga back to bedtime — before I take my shower and go hang out in bed, I want to do yoga. That’s when I used to do it for quite a long time and it is really relaxing to do that.

I managed to do that on Tuesday night — no problem. I even turned out the regular lamps and turned on my little Himalayan pink salt lamp for “spiritual ambience”  in my beloved bedroom. And it was really fun.

However, last night….

ME (in my shower): Fuck! I forgot to do yoga…

So, you know. I guess we’ll just see.

Part of my conundrum here is that the new erotic short story, “Novitiate,” is actually kind of intense. And posting to the blog first gives me a little bit of a buffer. I don’t have to plunge right into the intensity of the story the moment I sit down at my desk.

I know I keep saying this about each of the new short stories — or novellas — that I’ve been writing, that they’re intense. That they push the boundaries and all that. Even though, throughout my entire 30-year career of writing erotica, I have almost always pushed the boundaries. Mostly because, in the beginning of that career, most people were not anywhere near as politically correct as they are now and so there weren’t any boundaries to really push. Readers expected certain storylines in erotica, and that was that.

But that said, my writing has evolved into something sort of relentless. Even though I hope that readers still find it really fun — it takes a lot out of me to be true to the writing of it. More often than not, while I’m writing “Novitiate,” I am quietly saying to myself: Oh my god, are we really going to go there?

This new story takes place in the summer of 1966 and is basically a week-long gangbang at a private campground.

For a change, though, no one at all is a virgin!!!! But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have my typical female character getting in over her head really quickly, because that’s basically all I ever write about!!!

It’s amazing just how many varied and intense stories I’ve managed to come up with over the space of 30 years where a female character can get in over her head really quickly.

Anyway. I guess I’m just rebelling against the intensity of the censorship that has been closing in increasingly on erotica over the last ten years. (And it has come from the “Liberals,” in an odd twist of fate…) (15 years ago, it was the Republicans I had to watch out for; now it’s the Democrats. Which is why people like me absolutely need a viable Independent Party in the USA.)

However, I take courage (and I don’t use that word lightly) from all those amazing 3D hentai animators out there in the world because they are breaking almost every taboo that is applied to written erotica.  And so many of them are just so fucking good at it.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I am a huge fan of 3D hentai monster porn.  And while bestiality is not one of the topics I have an interest in in real life (in all honestly, I think it’s abusive to animals), and while it is hugely taboo in erotica (unless you are writing in the realm of erotic shape-shifters), bestiality is all over hentai in the form of “monsters.”

For instance, 3D hentai werewolf porn is sort of incredible. It’s basically just very large dogs fucking very large-breasted girls. (Yes! Girls who have gotten in over their heads  really quickly and who are suddenly getting savagely fucked by dogs werewolves.)

One of the things I look for while watching hentai are the details. The backgrounds, the locations, the themes that recur over and over — and then look at the numbers of hits these things get (well into the millions of views per video). Because it gives me a really good idea of what younger people are into now. And one of the things that really amuses me is how often the girl- characters, who are basically being raped by monsters or dogs werewolves, are wearing really nice stockings and makeup and really pretty shoes.

Sometimes the makeup gets smeared a bit, you know. However, even while fucking dogs werewolves in every position imaginable, the creators of the scenes (99.9% are guys, I believe) make sure that nothing bad happens to the stockings or the shoes!!

If you’re a girl (such as I) and have spent of fucking fortune on expensive stockings over the decades (we won’t even discuss shoes!), you know that even being with a lover who’s non-canine  — right?

ME (feeling amorous): “Don’t fucking come near me until I change out of these stockings!! They cost me a fortune!!”

It doesn’t take much to completely ruin a really nice pair of stockings. The last thing you would want is a dog (or werewolf) even jumping up on you, let alone doing all that other stuff.

So that kind of thing, in animation, really just amuses me.

Anyway. I digressed a little.

My point was, that one of the things I really love about 3D hentai animation (when it’s not actually a video made for the Japanese viewing market, where genital censorship is the norm), is how uncensored and wide open the imaginations are of those animators. I just love the artistic freedom of it. I don’t love every single thing I watch, but I do love to see where the minds are going and see just how many millions of people are watching these videos.

It renews my faith in humanity.

That, combined with my new publishers, who only want erotica that does push the taboos (except of course, pedophilia), I guess my mind is finally rebelling against so many years of increasing censorship.

And I guess on that note, I’m ready to get to work here. Have a great Thursday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with some more Morgana King, this time “Mountain High, Valley Low.” Enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya!

A Quick Post

I’m going to be switching  when I post to the blog for a while. I need the early hours of the morning to work on the new erotic short story (titled “Novitiate”), and then do a final edit of the whole collection of stories, in order to get the book off to the publisher as soon as possible.

So, I will either post midday, when I’m getting a break, or I will post after dinner, when I’m done writing for the day.

That will be starting today!!

Before I go, though, the Nick Cave web site sent out a reminder yesterday re: the live online listen-a-long on Bad Seed TeeVee this Friday, Oct.9th. And this is the official time zone thingie. It appears I was wrong yet again, so I’m glad they sent that out!

“This will be a live event available worldwide at the following times on Friday 9th October: Sydney, Melbourne 8pm AEDT / Wellington 10pm NZDT / Paris, Berlin 11am CEST / London 10am BST / Sao Paulo 6am BRT / New York 5am EDT / Mexico City 4am CDT / Los Angeles 2am PDT”

Okay! So I’m gonna scoot and I’ll be back later! Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys. See ya!!