Today I ponder gender identity. And what it means for the future. If you haven’t noticed, the world is changing, and hopefully, becoming more aware and accepting and tolerant. I work in a liberal environment, and in an establishment that recognizes this. It’s as natural as breathing where I live and function. But I realize it’s not so in other parts of our beloved country. And to me, that is tragic.

But I’m not asking about whether you believe in the changes. What I wonder is how the changing world is going to handle this in writing and in speaking. Having taught now for 7 years, I see the trends from when I first started teaching to now. As English teachers around the country used to cringe when pronouns didn’t match in number (one is he or she not they), in writing or public speaking, we’ve started to loosen our grip on those “rules.” While we’ve certainly learned a long time ago that “man” and “he” no longer apply to men AND women, it started to become cumbersome to ALWAYS have to write “he” or “she” or say “he” or “she.” We finally agreed—Okay. Okay. Use “they” if you must but change it to people or persons to match! And that can work…but it’s not. Trust me.

Today I ask: Would you rather be with your best friend and have adequate sex for a lifetime or be with a passionate lover filled with angst and torment but incredible sex? You can’t have both! Of course we’d all say we want both, that we’d choose our best friend and exquisite lover, but how many of us actually can find that? How many of you have? Is that an allusion fed to us? Is it really possible to have the lover of our dreams AND our best friend? What if we find it but only after we’ve already made a commitment to someone else? How many of us settle, picking the easier life, the life that keeps us from possibly being alone?

Why? Why do we do this? Are we that afraid we can’t “have it all” and so follow like sheep and do what society expects of us? Is it really the best we think we can get? It makes wonder if that is why so many couples cheat on one another.  Sit here and say how wrong it is all you want, but it is as common as breathing. And we all know it. Just look around.
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And so this leads me to my real question of the day and my #ThursdayThoughts. Are open relationships something we should all be striving for? Is that possible? I have mixed feelings on this issue and I realize as I ponder this how very selfish it is. I think about myself. And I think about how truly spectacular it could be to have the liberty to have the best of both worlds, openly. No lying. No cheating. No deceit. No hurt feelings. Just an open understanding that monogamy is a bit far-fetched perhaps. That we find our needs fulfilled by different people at different times, much like friendships. Some days I need a break from say, my childhood best friend, and need to be with my best friend from work, who understands me now, not the Rosemary of middle school or high school. And other times, I want to revisit an ex-boyfriend, now friend, because he may understand things about me without me having to spell everything out, because he was a part of making me who I am.

I wonder if this is a topic that can be discussed AFTER the commitment or if it would destroy it if the other person isn’t on board. What is wrong with me? Aren’t I enough? What is missing? And so on…I think someone who has a need for BDSM elements who chooses a vanilla partner might struggle with this…and chooses, chooses to decide on that first question I posed—best friend or best lover. But would an open relationship keep the trust in loyalty intact? Is it healthier? Or would it destroy it?

I often wonder about my writing. Where it came from. Why. I particularly wonder about why I feel compelled to write erotica and erotic romance with BDSM. Why it has dark themes. Sometimes dub-con. Why alpha males? Why damaged males? Why happy endings? What is it that turns me on about such themes? Have you thought about this if you write? How about what you read? Have you ever been judged because of it? And if so, do you hide it? Behind kindles? Or behind pseudonyms? Do you ask yourself why you’re drawn to what you’re drawn to when it comes to the erotic? Or romance? Is there a formative experience you can pinpoint it to? More importantly, have you been able to answer it?

I think I can understand it for myself…somewhat. My formative years. The boyfriends I had and the age. The poet with tough family life whose middle name was "Angst," who was sent away, later joined the military, and went AWOL. Perhaps, because I wanted to help him, “save” him from his past disappointments and couldn’t. Perhaps I like to see those happy endings in my romance books that may reflect what I wish I could have done. Keep the juicy angst but be able to fix it all in the end. I don’t know. I’m still thinking about that. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t much care about the whys anymore. It just “is.”

A few have criticized my choices in my “fiction" as a result. Recently, a “friend” who claims not be judgmental in any form (let me clear my throat), stormed “off the set” because of some of the contents on my books, unfriending, saying nasty things about MY  'character' because of the “characters” in my “fictional” books. Did I say “fiction”? Good thing she’s not judgmental, huh? And I see it happen to a lot of authors. It's not just me. 

There’s so many varying forms and levels of sexuality from heterosexual to bisexual to pansexual to homosexual and everything in between. I’m heterosexual. And yes, this may sound silly, but sometimes, I almost feel like THAT is a bad thing to be writing about these days. I certainly felt that way with my previous publisher. I couldn’t care less which way you wave your flag. Love. Lust. Fuck. Kiss. Sleep with whomever you want. But how come traditional roles of love and relationships, conflict and resolution, falling in love and marriage is somehow bad, uninteresting, not important anymore? Says who? It’s what I, personally, enjoy reading in this genre. And it’s what I enjoy writing. I won’t apologize for it. Just as someone who wants to write about transgender relationships or gay sex or bisexual untraditional tropes. Go for it. 

What's more, and maybe this is the rub, this genre, this trope, this story, is STILL quite popular among many romance readers, readers in general, that even in our changing world of more and more acceptance of non-traditional roles, the majority still like the trope of boy meets girl, they fall in love, and live happily ever after but not until there is a helluva lot of angst and conflict first. So what? Live and let live. I wish the judging would stop. On both sides of this coin. What difference does it make if it’s well-written and makes a reader feel? Find your audience. And keep producing what both you and they are looking for. It’s really that simple.

​Today I have many questions and they all relate in some way (sure they do) to the same topic: Cheating in fiction. First, how do you feel about your main heroine cheating? Not on the hero (or in this case, anti-hero), but cheating on a former boyfriend, the minor character, sort of by chance, a man she really is not fulfilled or happy with? Further, and this is more of the question, must she fess up to it? Tell him? If someone cheated on you in real life, would you want to know if you were already broken up? What would it do for you to know except hurt you? Is “the truth” the most important thing? Or are the feelings of another? I hope you’ll indulge me to read the whole, blasted post.😊

As I edit EDGE of TORMENT (which often means rewriting certain sections as I read back), I come back to a topic that seems to disturb people. Cheating. But I’ve asked you that before. So it doesn’t end there. The novel has elements of cheating in it, but it’s more a tale of self-discovery, a woman staying in a safe relationship, because she thinks it’s what she must do, that she is obligated to do…that is until she meets someone who opens her up to a world of sexuality she’s sort of been waiting for her whole life…she just never knew it. It took him to unlock her deepest desires. And she follows her "bliss."

The issue isn’t that she should follow her heart, her bliss, and pursue happiness (at least I hope it isn’t. I would vehemently disagree with you there), it’s that she acts before she’s left the other man, albeit a bit spontaneously. And some readers get downright upset and angry with me for that. I thought of changing that…that perhaps she could be broken up with the former first. But the whole story line would change. And I rather like it as is, all angsty and imperfect. What say you? Should I rework a bit of the sequence? Or should I say: Fuck it. These are the realities of relationships, life, choices, and sexual discovery. I sort of made my mind to just leave things where they are. Annabelle is not perfect. None of the characters are. Why should they be? But…

I asked a question on my new author page: R.B. O’Brien: Up Close and Personal last week, and now I pose it to you: Do you think orgasms beget the desire for more orgasms, like sugar or carbs, like a craving, especially in the form of masturbation, or is the opposite true—that the more orgasms we have the more we can go in between without having them and therefore, crave them less?  What say you? What has been your experience in regards to this? But that’s not all I'm asking, so please, continue reading. I tried to see if I could find any evidence one way or the other, more than anecdotal, to answer this question, and sadly, I found out something I didn’t know, never being able to answer the question I was searching for.

We all know orgasm-“ing” 😊 is an important part of life and health and happiness. Yes. We know this already. It’s true. The research is there. Orgasms are healthy in many ways. We all have read this by now. We’re less depressed, will live longer, orgasms relieve stress, help us sleep better, curb over-eating, and on and on and on. It’s not a revelation there. Why masturbation was (and still is) so taboo for women is a mystery.

But what I didn’t know is that some women can’t orgasm. Not just during intercourse. No. Some women cannot orgasm. AT. ALL. The percentage is startling. And it could be hereditary! In an article in the UK mag Independent, it stated: “15 to 20 per cent of women are physically unable to orgasm, which is known as being ‘anorgasmic’.” This isn’t because their partners are clueless or they haven’t discovered how their bodies work yet or something happened traumatically to make them loathe such experiences. These women can’t climax, PERIOD, never mind the very large percentage (some studies as high as 70-80%!!) of women who say they’ve never orgasmed with a partner, or struggle to, something you can find in multiple sources. And the research states that this could be hereditary!

This is absolutely new news for me, the idea that a woman may live her entire life and never experience the gift of orgasm. I cannot fathom a life sans orgasm. My. God. What would that be like? It makes me sad that this is a problem only affecting women, that while men may suffer performance issues, they have no problems when it comes to masturbation and climax. I find I absolutely benefit from orgasm as the studies state above with stress relief and sleep. They even help me concentrate. But, I suppose, if there's any downside, they can, sometimes, distract too…and occasionally (ahem), I am unable to do my best work until that little nagging…thing…you know that thing that has a mind of its own is taken care of…and sadly, without any research but anecdotal, I think more begets more…like anything that you crave, this is no different. And while I feel bad for those who can’t experience such release, I suppose, you can’t miss something you never had, right? Having it and then no longer having it would be far worse…I think. And selfishly, I, luckily won’t have to find that out. ​

My post today comes from a conversation I had with an old ‘friend’ from my past the other day. I wasn’t going to write about it, but it’s gnawing away at me, so I must. You know when you think you know how you feel about something or what you believe and then someone challenges that, and you may change your mind or at least THINK about things differently? Yes. That.

Today’s post comes from a movie I watched the other night: The Shape of Water. Have you seen it? This won’t be a movie review. It’s impossible to write one without giving everything away, so I discuss the thing I loved about it the most, the eroticism of it.
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When it comes to sexy, we all have differing ideas. Just look at last week’s post on hair! Short. Long. Dreads. Bald. And everything in between. We all have different tastes and different styles. What about our reading or movie-watching pleasures? What do you find sexy there? Or does that depend on what you’re looking for at the time, your mood?  If you’re looking to get aroused, perhaps to aid yourself in rising to “that” place, the big O, a quick, one-handed read? Or is it a long, angsty drawn-out sexual tease? Or perhaps you prefer more subtle, more sensual art and writing? Less erotic and more romance? What about no sex at all? Just straight romance? Really! I want to know. 

As I write this, I’m smiling because it started to snow, and so I am going to seemingly go in a different direction for a moment, but I’m not, not really.

I always look out the window when I write for some reason, as if Nature herself will tell me what I’m thinking or what’s on my mind. You know that idea that to center ourselves we can place our fingers on our collarbone with our right hand on the left side of our collarbone, move it down just a bit and press? That is what Nature does to me. When I look out at her majesty and stop and let myself go and not think, that is when I think. Oh the irony! And when my mind quiets, I can write.
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What quiets you? Where are your thoughts? It’s the quiet moments of the morning where I write best, especially in the summer, when my mind isn’t going in a million directions. And the way the snow is falling right now, big, huge flakes, so light you know they would melt on your tongue immediately, their white beauty a direct contrast to the naked trees, brown, barely alive. And I realized I find it oddly erotic. Subtly so. The beauty of it is quiet. It doesn’t make a sound and yet it makes such a loud impression. This. This is what I like. And it ties into my thoughts today.

​I like subtle eroticism, even though sometimes I don’t write that in my own work. Like I asked you above, it does depend on my mood too. But the things that affect me the most, are not the in-my-face and graphic erotic, but, instead, eroticism that is there nonetheless, somehow a work of art, that I somehow find beautiful or sensual or erotic. I guess one would simply call it romanticized eroticism. Hmmmm…I wonder if that term has already been coined? Perhaps I should coin it if not, because yes, I do see the world that way. Things I truly admire or marvel at bring me to that conclusion.

​The Shape of Water does that too. Its director brings us a tale that is so rich with such beautiful, yet subtle eroticism, we suspend our disbelief about all of it. It strips barriers of stereotypes and what it means to be human and lets us just see living and love and hate and racism and good and bad and light and dark and greed and pride and science and nature and romance and the romantic and everything in between. It is no surprise why it won best picture. It reminded me that I do wonder, often, if we don’t really exist as we think we do. That perhaps we are all just connected parts of nature, four seasons, going through the cyclical inevitability of life. When I look up at the sky and pause and see its infinite expanse and ultimately question true existence and whence and how I came to be, I have no answer. Somehow, that too, is beautiful. And I realize, I don’t mind at all. I do breathe. I do feel. I do love. And that is all I really need to know. For I exist.

​Do any of you women have short hair? And heterosexual men—do you prefer short or long hair on “yo’ woman?” Yup. That is the basic thrust 😉 of today’s #ThursdayThoughts. Hair! But bear with me. It’s going to take me a little while to get there. But you know me by now!

Last week, I tackled something pretty serious and slightly profound, so this week I thought I’d take it down a notch. You may be asking what the holy hell I’m talking about hair for? In a world gone Big-Brother mad right now, I stopped and did something completely mindless and without deep thought. I watched "The Bachelor." Yes. That cheesy, contrived TV-show that pits women against each other in a game of wooing and competition to see who can win the man.  What ensues is a journey to find “love” but of course we all know, it’s a journey to win, to connive, to become what it takes to succeed, the weaker players easily weeded out early on. It’s all rather foolish and sick and shallow and yet, is it?

How is it really any different than any other game or contest? Are we against all contests? Why is this one deemed so ‘wrong’? Does it require stamina? Yup. Skill? You bet it does. Taking risks and overcoming fears and phobias? Hell, yes. I wouldn’t do half those things they are required to do! Intelligence? Yes. On many levels it absolutely DOES require a deep amount of emotional and social intelligence, and even intellect. The smart ones do rise to the top. People look at it and think it’s about looks only. But don’t looks just come down to personal preference? Attraction is so much more than that, and we all know it and often can’t even explain why we’re so attracted to someone (See: the-pheromone-myth-and-online-relationships.html).

But I’m not here to defend "The Bachelor." It’s a twisted peek into the human psyche on both sides of this equation, participant and spectator, and some nights I felt a thin sheen of slime on my skin that no shower could remove. But even as I scoffed at its superficiality and complete manipulation by the producers, donning the most butter atop popcorn known to mankind, slapping on a pair of comfortable yoga pants, and inviting my girlfriends under my favorite throw, squished on the couch together, our ridiculous buns bobbing in laughter to the moments of sheer lunacy on the screen,  I began to realize the show succeeds not because it may cater to the lowest common denominator in our society, but because it is a contest, a competition, like any other competition out there that people flock to see its champions and losers. Is it really so different than the Olympics? Football? The Greatest Chef? And the like? Make no mistake, it isn’t about love. Not one bit. Not usually. And anyone who wins “the prize” who watches back the utter gluttony and lies told by “the catch” (yes. I suppose a fishing competition is more akin to this than the basest of sports), is inevitably bound to taste the flavor of their own vomit.
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But what I’m really here to talk about is Bekah M, the Bekah who didn’t win, the Bekah…wait for it…who had short hair. GASP! Funnily enough, some of the major news outlets were “reporting” on this. And some proclaimed: “Are you serious? This is news? Short hair is news? In a time where there is gun violence and immigration debate and the most polarizing president in history at our helm, we’re talking about hair for god’s sake?” Everywhere on social media people were yammering: This is the first time in “Bachelor history” (for those of you who have ever watched the show, you’ll get the joke) that a woman with short hair has made it this far! It is a bit ludicrous, and I chuckle even as I write this, but it really DOES say something, doesn’t it? Hair seems to say something and always has. 

According to archaelogist, Elizabeth Bartman in Time magazine online:  “Even despite the Ancient Greek ideal of a 'bearded, long-haired philosopher,' women in that society still had longer hair than men regularly did. Roman women kept their hair long and tended to part it down the center, and a man devoting too much attention to his hair 'risked scorn for appearing effeminate.' Further, the bible may have started its popularity in our western, Christian culture that quotes St. Paul: “Doth not nature itself teach you that if a man have long hair it is a shame unto him? But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her.” And more, many scholars believe it stemmed from the belief that hair and length was a direct correlation to someone’s health. “In order to have long hair you have to be healthy...You have to eat well, have no diseases, no infectious organisms, you have to have good rest and exercise.” Who doesn't want a woman like that?

In an article from the University of Brighton, UK, on women of Victorian times, and we see it the literature I seem to love, “A woman’s long hair, after all, is the emblem of her femininity. More than that, it is a symbol of her sexuality, and the longer, thicker and more wanton the tresses, the more passionate the heart beneath them is assumed to be.” We are reminded of Lilith and Ruth, Ruth even transforming herself by having to have her luscious locks “castrated,” hair being such a powerful symbol of sexuality and wanton sexuality.  

​Even today, as noted in an article in Psychology Today: “There’s an idea floating around that long hair on women is appealing to men—that mass of flowiness and texture supposedly trumpets femininity, adding to women’s appeal as the gentler sex.”  But the article goes on to say that many men today are actually drawn to women with shorter hair, saying, “It seems more like a choice, like the woman is more self-determined.” And that this is appealing to the modern-day man. Is that true?

I’ve never worn my hair short. As a lover of dance, I wasn’t really allowed that option, my early years in a very strict studio. I also don’t have Becah K’s face to don such an adorable look. It may be because my brother liked to tease me upon first exiting the shower, towel wrapped around my head. “What’s up Moon Face?”
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Regardless, it seems all this talk about “hair” and “that” Bachelor contestant is much deeper than it appeared. It’s really a study in all three of the great “ologies”—anthropology, sociology, and psychology, if one really begins to think on it, delve, question it. Just why short hair seemed to make ‘news’ makes a bit more sense now under this lens. And revisiting some of the Victorian literature while researching this topic a little bit, I realized that hair is always mentioned somehow. I used to think it imagery for writing sake, which it is of course, but really, it’s much more than that; it's a reflection of culture and even history of the female entity. 

It is has also made me think about my own writing and heroines. Personally, my hair is the one thing physically I have never complained about. I like my hair. There. I said it. I admit it. I was graced with good hair. And we females are critical enough about ourselves daily not to say so if we actually like something about ourselves. Why is that uncomfortable to do? Perhaps something to tackle in another post. But every single one of my heroines has luxurious, long hair. Some of my minor characters do not--Patricia, my favorite from Natalie’s Edge, sporting a bob, Olivia, the villain in Thorne, also sporting one, and Jennifer, Thorne’s lesbian, best friend dons short hair, and maybe my coolest character ever--but the heroines? No. Not yet.

So to Bekah M. Thank you. My next heroine just may have short hair! There is no question my next heroine will twirl off the pages with grace and sass, very much the way Bekah M did. I’m not sure what my hero (or usually anti-hero) will pull in the bedroom, but damn it, I just may dedicate my next novel to our short-haired vixen. And isn’t it funny? Even as I write this, it still feels slightly uncomfortable in my mind’s eye. We still have a long way to go, like almost everything else still fighting its way out of stereotypes, discrimination, and tradition. And so perhaps that is why a silly, mindless, let-me-shut-off-for-a-few-hours-and-not-think TV show made news about the girl with short hair…There’s much more there than what does, or doesn’t, reach the below the surface of a woman's neck. :)

​Yet another judgmental and arrogant person I've dealt with. Seems these last few weeks are filled with them, and I have no idea why! What is it about sensual images and the writing of erotic stories that can really get people’s knickers in a bunch? I addressed this last week with the word "erotic" and no sooner did I get into it with another on Twitter. This pompous know-it-all actually took one of my graphics and changed it. Now that takes effort! Would you like to see? I've attached it at the end if you do. 

I engaged with him, rather than simply block or lash out. Hell, I figured, at least I’m getting some interaction about my writing, right?  And it slowly turned into the “I have a degree in English lit…and…” Yeah? So do I, buddy. But I didn’t go there.

He wrote: “Usually if has anyone (sic) of either gender on the cover half naked, or uses the word Billionaire in the blurb, (or has a sword), I flick past it.” Okay. He is entitled to his opinion. But I did my own kind of flicking too (it may or may not have been with my middle finger!). Talk about judging a book by its cover. No mention of swords or billionaires in my blurb (not capitalized either, Mr. English major FYI), but yes, Natalie is en pointe ‘half naked.’ Oh my god. The gall, huh? Sadly, he is not alone in his view as Amazon agrees, because Temptation was put into the “jail” ages ago and my publisher hasn’t fixed it, because, well, if they do, I’ll lose all my reviews supposedly. This closed-minded way of thinking is getting old. And tiresome.

When he started to insult the Bard, and that he “never re-reads a book” (What????), I knew it was a useless, one-sided conversation, that I was dealing with a very bored man, an unhappy one I’m sure. He hadn’t read my work, and I realized he wasn’t going to. That somehow because I explore the sensual and erotic in my writing, I’m lesser. I espoused that it’s really sad that such judgments and repression run rampant so strongly and that I find it disturbing. The question that still lingers for me more than anything though, is why he felt the need to go out of his way to engage and further, rework a graphic of mine. Buddy—you need to have more sex. Clearly. And therein lies the crux of the problem. I'm convinced of it!

Natalie’s Edge is about the journey of discovering our true selves, including our sexual ones. The world of repression is very real, and for some of us, our writing is the only safe place we are allowed to express it. Writing that series was quite cathartic for me. And no one can take away its profound importance to my journey not only as a writer but as a human being who breathes and lives one day at a time.

Darkness can consume an individual, swallow up the light, an unhappiness that doesn’t make much sense when that person seems to have everything. And we must reckon that or wither. Writing and exploring some of our darker thoughts and desires can often free us. Sometimes, it’s even therapy for conquering depression. And sometimes, we don’t even know until we let our subconscious roam free on the blank pages soon filled with so much of our truth, we only then can start to live. To deny sensuality is repressed, archaic nonsense.

​I grew up with the Catholic idea that sex is bad, so I know a thing or two about repression. I keep thinking we’re making progress. But we really aren’t. I won’t get into my political views here. But it’s quite apparent. And I ask why…just why does expressing oneself and embracing all facets of our beings get minimized to a sound byte of “porn”? My work is not “porn.” It is about relationships and romance, exploration, and submitting to visceral desires, through the written word to elicit emotion. My work is about love and acceptance. And I pity those that choose to ignore and suppress a vibrant and important part of living… If someone wants to roam about half a man, to him I simply say: I actually feel bad for you. I know. I've been there.