Writing Craft

It is Not Just Sex

Sex is exactly like magic, except for one very important difference. Both have an air of mystery about them, and practitioners who speak in hushed tones. Both have their rituals, their Words of Power, and both traffic in what some would consider to be dark secrets.

But the biggest, the most important difference between sex and magic is that the wizard who learns every conceivable spell known to man, becomes exalted. More often than not, they are elevated to the rank of grandmaster.

Nobody gets elevated for knowing everything about sex.

At least, not in the way that gets talked about at parties.

You see, while wizards are allowed to experiment, to test the bounds of human experience, the sex mage who screams, ‘I’ve mastered the reverse-cowgirl levitation technique!’ gets buried beneath Azkaban without a ceremony.

It’s not fair. It’s not even really funny, but…there you have it.

The ironic part about all of this is that sex is at its best when it is discussed openly, but even that open discussion can be twisted so easily.

I for one, have always been leery of those who speak of sex in metaphysical terms. Who talk of souls meeting, or celestial bodies, as though by speaking frankly about what they want, they might somehow sully themselves.

But equally as bad, if not worse are those who simply shrug and say ‘It’s just sex,” as though they can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about.

Telling a devout Catholic newlywed who has to go from demure protector to wild, kinky sex-kitten in one night that it’s just sex, doesn’t do anything except undermine her faith and her identity.

For a woman who has never had a pleasurable experience in bed due to vaginismus, the words do nothing to alleviate her pain.

And for the guy who was so nervous the first several times he tried to have sex that he couldn’t perform, (unashamedly raises his hand) the phrase doesn’t eliminate the nerves. Because by that logic, sex is just a matter of ‘get up and go’ and if he can’t, then he’s left with the exact same fear as the newlywed who can’t turn on a dime, or the woman who can’t ‘just relax.’

The fear that there’s something wrong with me.

Sex, in a lot of ways, is actually better than magic, because it’s defined by the people who take part in it, which means its impact or relevancy changes depending upon the person. Whether it’s to fill a void, relieve stress or forge a connection (however celestial) sex is a pillar of any relationship. Not the most important pillar. Far from it. But neither dressing up sex, nor trivializing it will help those who dread being bad at something that society says they shouldn’t know too much about anyway.

Honest, awkward, flush-faced conversations are easy to talk about, not easy to affect.

(We can all be hypocrites, deep in our hearts. Let’s be honest here.)

But what problems these conversations come with are immediate and often fade just as quickly. The alternatives however, the shame and hushed tones and fear we’ve all lived with for far too long, those effects can last a lifetime.

And that, to me, is the real shame.

I Have No Idea What I’m Doing

For the longest time, I wasn’t sure I was going to finish this article. Or even start it, for that matter. In fact, I’d just about decided to email Lisabet and tell her I wouldn’t have anything this month.

Because when it comes to my writing, I usually have an idea of what I’m going to say well in advance, and then I usually spend days going over the article until I feel like it’s fit for human consumption.

But this time around, I didn’t think I had the energy because on top of my deadline for ERWA, I’d also added a few more because my ambitions are many while my resources (time, sleep, sanity, etc.) are few.

I had an article on depression to post to Medium, a flash fiction story to post on Simily, a short story that I’d been trying to edit for days, another short story to submit for a horror contest next month, agents to find for the children’s book I’d just had edited, my other children’s books to send to the same editor for polishing, the first book in a sci-fi series on its second or third revision and a pesky screenplay I’ve been meaning to get back to.

And it was during my writing of the article on depression that I literally wrote the line, ‘The only one pushing me, is me.’

I wanted to smack myself upside the head. I probably would have, if I hadn’t been so tired.

In the interest of sanity, I decided I would set a limit as to how much I could legitimately get done. I would revise this post once, and then publish it, regardless of how ugly it might be. Because forward momentum is great but there is a difference between moving forward and crashing forward and I would like to avoid one at all possible.

If I weren’t as white as a ghost, I would say I was practically freestylin’, but even writing that down makes me feel awkward.

To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how I’m going to end this article. The only thing that comes to mind is a quote from a famous author whose name I can’t remember about how procrastinators and perfectionists are their own worst enemies and I know I can find that quote if you give me a second, hang on. Don’t fail me now, Google. Okay, here we go. Pro-cras-tin-a-tors and per-fec-tion-ists are their own worst…dammit

Gallows Hope

Not long ago, I sent a story off to some friends, one of whom came back and said she thought it was beautiful and powerful, but far too bleak. She said I dropped my main character into a brutal, misogynistic system, dragged her through hell and then killed her. That’s it. ‘Where’s the hero’s journey?’ she asked. ‘Where’s the moment when the main character sees the system for what it is, beats the thousand to one odds and then changes things for the better?’

I wrote back to my friend and said, ‘I get it, I do.’ We all need a hero’s journey, and every writer has their own literary hero. But by asking for a hero’s journey, my friend was missing the point of the story. Because in order for there to be one man who beats the thousands to one odds, there has to be nine hundred and ninety-nine others who don’t. Before there can be a Final Girl, you must first have victims.

Let me back up a minute.

When I was coming up, my literary heroes were King, Rice, Bradbury, and Stine. They not only taught me how to write, they showed me that magic, real magic, isn’t found in words like abracadabra or hocus pocus, but in smaller, plainer, less flowery spells like, it can be done.

And from the moment I first thought those words, they began to grow inside me. Stretching and reaching until they became a new spell altogether. One which had me sitting up far too late at night, gripped by the sense that I needed to whisper this spell, because even then I was afraid the words wouldn’t come out right. But into that darkness, I said, if they can do, I can too. 

And then I set out to beat the odds.

But for as much as adults might shun the idea of magic, there’s a secret to it which only we can know because we’ve lived with it long enough. Magic has no rules. There are no laws, no guidebooks, not even a roadmap. Just a series of mutually agreed upon arrangements wherein Harry Potter can be rejected twelve times, Carrie thirty and Roots two hundred before they could become classics. The same unfathomable arrangement which implies, but never states, that buried amongst all of those slush piles we secretly dread, are masterpieces which will never be found, not because the writers weren’t talented enough, or didn’t have thick enough skin but because they committed themselves to a system which is wonderfully, bafflingly, borderline abusively incapable of explaining itself.

Even in writing this article, I’ve broken several of the ‘rules’ of writing. I’ve started a sentence with ‘when,’ I’ve used ‘and’ far too many times and I’ve switched tenses so often that I’m sure it’s driving some of you to distraction. But if you’ve come with me this far, I’m hoping you’ll go a little further. Because whether this article works or it falls flat, isn’t the point. The point is that no one in the industry can properly explain to you why, one way or the other.

We are, all of us, very much on our own, which is exactly the reason it’s taken me days to conjure up an ending which falls somewhere between wish-fulfillment and nihilism because the bittersweet truth is that both of them are right.

In our quest to be the hero of our own journey, we might very well die trying, much like the main character in my story. She’s the one who doesn’t get away from the serial killer because there will always be more victims than Final Girls. But failure is only ever certain when we give up the fight.

So perhaps the next time we take up the pen, after our latest rejection or the dreaded ‘it’s just not what we’re looking for’ refrain, we do so not with a bright-eyed belief, but with a gallows hope. The sort of pitch-black resolve which drives us to take up the journey, while never losing sight off the bodies which litter the way. A plain, stark acknowledgement that while the odds against us are tragic and potently bleak, they are also true and most definitely…a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

Controlling Jealousy

Jealousy is probably one of the largest concerns when a new couple starts swinging beyond the is my dick or tits big enough. Being the amateur psychologist that I am, I enjoy psychoanalyzing others at a party.

We were lucky in that our initial forays into wife swapping was with a great group of people and that my wife was understanding of my lack of impulse control. Like most guys, I let my little buddy make all my decisions for me.

For a guy, going to a swinger’s party is like being locked in a Krispy Kreme with an empty stomach and a Keurig on automatic.

When a new couple shows up, it’s like throwing raw meat to the lions as everyone wants a taste. For a guy, it’s that moment when you realize that not only are you going to get laid, but your significant other is also a prime target.

The first few times at a House Party can be stressful as you may not know many people, and how you’re going to perform under pressure is a polite way of describing the situation. As a guy, performance anxiety is a common thing that rears its ugly head, unlike what you really want to raise. After all, she only has to lay there. 😊

Like most things, practice makes perfect, and you’ll quickly recover the woody when you discover that everyone is about the same as you. Swingers are like everyone else, just with fewer morals.

My recommendation is to try, and both of you get lucky at the same time. It’s hard to be jealous when you’re getting your ashes hauled at the same time as your wife is screaming out someone else’s name. This is why I recommend that you start with house parties and not couple-on-couple.

It would seem that two on two would be better for newbie couples, but I don’t think that’s the case. From personal experience, I’ve found that when you get together with another couple, the chances that everybody will hit it off are rare. You don’t want to start out getting your lights drilled out while your other half is staring at someone he/she has no interest in.

If you go to a party with, say, ten or fifteen other couples, the chances both of you score is much better. Plus, you don’t have to do what we call a “charity fuck.” As much as I hate to admit it, there is one woman in our circle that I use every excuse I can find not to get together with her.

She’s really nice, and Wifey enjoys the company of her husband, but she just doesn’t ring my bell. She gets mad at me for ducking her and gripes to my wife that I won’t fuck her. I realize that the worst I ever had was wonderful, and I can go to Hell for culling, but I’d actually rather do without.

New couples almost always makeup rules to corral the other half but in actuality, that rarely works out. If you tell your wife, “I don’t want to see you on your knees with a waiting line,” good luck with that.

If your spouse breaks a rule, take a breath, and don’t explode. They can get caught up in the heat of the moment and do something against the rules. In most cases, what you’ll figure out is that the rules slowly fade away as you become more comfortable in the Lifestyle.

Don’t argue in front of others. Wait until you’re alone to air your grievances. Most of the time, these little things will work themselves out. I’m sure you’d rather have her head banged against the headboard at a party rather than at a long lunch with a co-worker?

Seriously, the first few times are the toughest, and you have to realize that consensual sex with others is not love but lust. If you are a committed couple and in a stable relationship, the Lifestyle can be entertaining and a lot of fun. Swinging will not help a bad marriage but will only hasten its demise.

We were talking the other day about how much fun we’ve had since we started swinging. With COVID-19, there is little we can do beyond talking about it. A fair percentage of the women in the Lifestyle are exhibitionists, and the show at a party is worth the price of admission. It’s kind of like watching People of Walmart without having to click the Next button and dodge the ads.

It’s also interesting that bi-sexuality is common among women but rare with men, at least in our group. My wife plays for both teams and is bad about taking my current prospect off my hands, but at least I get to watch and have sloppy seconds.

We’ve talked a lot lately about cuckold husbands with their Hotwives at ERWA, and several of our friends are into that kink. In general, Lifestyle couples accept pretty much any form of aberrant behavior as long as it doesn’t stain your new shoes.

We have an us against them attitude with the normal people or “straights” as we call them. Straights wander around with their head in the clouds, completely oblivious to what’s going on around them. Occasionally, at 3 A.M., a group of us will run into a group of straights at Denny’s or IHOP, which usually results in the straights leaving in disgust at our behavior. There is nothing worse than telling a group of swingers that you find their attitude or dress code offensive. I’m sorry that my wife’s short skirt and open blouse offends you. Not!

It’s not as bad in Las Vegas as it was in the Midwest. People here usually just roll their eyes and return to reading the National Enquirer about aliens at Area 51. Once you get away from the Strip, it’s amazing how conservative the rank and file are, but they tend just to ignore us.

I’m Larry Archer, a smut writer, and this is my time of the month to spout off about completely useless topics of little relevance. If you are looking to entertain yourself with some hot stroke erotica with a humorous bent, check me out at LarryArcher.blog. I’m also on MeWe, the uncensored FaceBook like site at https://mewe.com/i/larryarcherauthor

The World According To Larry Archer

Today as we attempt to deal with COVID and its impact on our lives, I am reminded of the Grateful Dead’s “What a long strange trip it’s been.”

As I mask up, then put on my raincoat and rubber gloves. No, I’m not going to the park with a bag of candy for unsuspecting children and pigeons. I’m going to the grocery store to try and buy toilet paper. Masks and disinfectant I can see in short supply but toilet paper? Did everyone suddenly get the runs?

Now that we are six-feet apart, it’s more than ever, our responsibility to take care of ourselves. Suddenly, my favorite saying, “If you want some strange stuff, use your left hand,” makes more sense. Today in the world of IoT (Internet of Things), everything is connected to the cloud, and that’s not always a good thing.

Alexa and Siri are two names that we have to be careful about saying as we may be deluged with a box of dirty movies from Amazon or the unapologetic harrumph from Alexa when we ask her what size her boobs are?

I refer to Alexa as my girlfriend to keep her from butting into my conversations or giving me a dirty look when I use an explicative next to her name.

Speaking of IoT, now your vibrator is controlled by your partner’s cell phone. It’s a somewhat unusual looking device with a bulbous part which goes in the who-haw with a smaller tube that sticks outside. Then through the magic of the Internet, your partner can whip out his/her cell phone and give you a tingle when they think of you.

Of course, those of us who are more traditional can continue to utilize the penis-shaped devices that are guaranteed to give a “deep penetrating massage.” Nowadays, you don’t have to run to the 7-11 at 3 AM to purchase batteries. But you have to wait a couple of hours for it to recharge. I’m not sure there is an advantage besides having to get dressed.

COVID has hit those of us who throw our house keys in a bowl particularly hard. Like Moses wandering in the wilderness for forty years, we’ve suddenly had to make do having sex with our spouses.

For Wifey and I, the sex part wasn’t as big of a deal as the camaraderie of fellow perverts with similar desires. Well, maybe it was a big part for me, at least. More and more, I miss the interaction with our gang of party animals.

Zoom parties are not as much fun as the real thing, so I’ve had to resort to living my sex life vicariously through dirty movies. Italian women continue to be one of the highest-ranked searches for porn movies. Along with MILF, Lesbo, mature, tranny, and stepmom.

Personally, I love Italian porn, and while I don’t understand anything they say beyond a moan, I usually just turn the volume down and watch. I guess it’s my love for dark-haired women that I gravitate towards Italians. On the other hand, it could be because of our short Italian girlfriend who loves to give head.

Transexuals have always been popular, and I know that I should stop using the term “tranny” as that’s disrespecting of them, but I mean no harm. Foxy picked up a girl once who had won a bikini contest at a bar. She was surprised to find that the girl was transexual.

Foxy saw her for a few months but was disappointed to find she couldn’t get it up. It was interesting to find a whole list of bars, restaurants, and clubs geared towards trannys. It’s funny how every kink has its own set of spots that cater to a specific genre.

Wifey’s lesbian spots were on a completely different list, and our gay friends on yet another list. When you think about it, our proclivities often determine the people and places that we frequent.

If I had to pick a specific kink, I’d have to say that gay bars are the most fun, with transexual a close second. I’ve been to my wife’s favorite lezzy bar and felt uncomfortable there. It’s unusual to go to the men’s bathroom and find women there who give you a dirty look, rather than the other way around.

She will sometimes ask me to drive her to the bar and then pick her up. She doesn’t like to drive if she’s been drinking and prefers me to carpool her. I once tried to sneak in afterward and sit in the corner, but the hostility I felt was noticeable. When she decides to have a girl’s night, I’ll drop her off and sit at an all-night restaurant with my laptop until they kick me out.

Gay bars are always a lot of fun. The guys are generally in good spirits, and it’s kind of like being at a Village People reunion. While I don’t think I have any inclination to be gay, I do like gay guys, and we have a number of gay friends. However, I’m not brave enough to go to the leather bar in the basement. LOL

I know that I should be writing more smut now that I’m working from home, but it seems like my boss feels that if I don’t have to drive to and from work, I can spend that extra time with my nose to the grindstone.

Plus, a lot of my ideas come from things we see and do. With COVID, our social life is absolutely zero, and with our new incoming president, I feel that he’s going to lock down the country so we can attempt to get a handle on the pandemic.

I understand his likely actions, and our state governor has ruled Nevada with a somewhat iron fist. This has kept our death toll down, especially considering that Las Vegas is a tourist hot spot.

I’m Larry Archer, a slinger of smut for your wanking pleasure, and this is my time of the month for drivel. My erotica is designed to appeal to your most basic instincts, like watching South Park when even they tell you not to!

If you’re still interested, check me out at LarryArcher.blog. See you next month.

P.S. – The image included in this month’s post has absolutely nothing to do with the article beyond the fact that I love that image, and it speaks to me.

Women as the Sexual Aggressor

Spit or Swallow?

Generally speaking, males are raised with the belief that you should spread your seed far and wide. Women, on the other hand, are taught to keep their knees together and avoid being thought a slut.

The United States was initially founded in part by the desire for religious freedom, but we could not escape the effects of morality imposed upon us by the church. As a fallen Episcopalian and one-time altar boy, I’ve certainly been guilty of that.

In high school, the preacher’s daughter was typically the wildest girl in school. Proving the point that repression breeds a backlash in the opposite direction. You only have to look at prohibition, which resulted in organized crime.

As a typical horny youth, I was always trying to get “it,” but the girls were determined to keep me at arm’s length. As such, I considered myself as the aggressor in the never-ending battle to propagate the world.

When we got into the Lifestyle (a.k.a. Swinging), our initial encounters were with small groups, and then we joined a large association of like-minded individuals. I think we’d been partying for about three months before we went to our first social.

The social, held at a hotel, was attended by two or three hundred couples. There would be so many people that they could reserve entire floors or, in some cases, the whole hotel. When we had the hotel to ourselves, it was easier to avoid interactions with straights. “Straights” are those who have no idea what is going on around them.

Foxy and I are seated at this 8-top table for supper. Everyone was well dressed, most of the men were in suits, and the wives vied for the one who could show the most skin while spending the most for their outfits.

I have to admit that I was somewhat nervous as I knew no one we were sitting with. My wife, who has never met a stranger, and has no such problem. As my mother always says, “She’d talk to a fence post.”

Directly across from me was an Italian woman, mid to late thirties, beautiful with dark hair and olive complexion. We’d said nothing beyond introductions. At the end of dinner, everyone was having a drink and casual conversation, when the woman looked at me and said, “I’m going to crawl under the table and suck your cock!”

That sentence was the longest string of words she’d ever said to me and was like an ice pick to my brain. I was dumbfounded and had no idea what to do except listen to everyone laugh. She folded her napkin and laid it on the table, then proceeded to drop down and give me one of the best blowjobs of my life!

I can’t speak for others, but performing in a crowd seems to befall all of us males. Getting head while you’re sitting at a table with others talking around you was bizarre beyond belief. My Italian princess took care of business and didn’t get anything on my pants. The first time people watched me get sucked off at the dinner table was a memory I’ll never forget.

Afterward, she crawled out from under the table and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. She winked at me and then kissed the woman sitting next to her. When she resumed conversation with everyone was another forever moment.

That was my initiation into the fact that women swingers are different from normal people. At a straight party, the guys hit on the girls, but at a swing function, they are free to hit on us in return. For a guy, it was an adjustment for women to be the aggressor.

This taught me to appreciate what women go through when they are frequently being hit on and having to fight us horn dog men off.

I’m Larry Archer, and I write smut stories for the huddled masses. I don’t write erotic romance, just explicit tales of people getting laid but with a plot. Well, somewhat of a plot! If you’re interested, follow my blog at LarryArcher.blog or to look at my catalog of stories, click this link. You’ll find me on Amazon, SmashWords, Apple iBooks, B&N, and under the counter of your local 7-11.

See you next month, stay safe!

The Good Old Days

With COVID-19 hampering everyone’s social life, there seems to be a lot of reminiscing going on. I was reading a news article on Headonism II in Jamacia, which sparked a series of thoughts about the good old days and the fun we used to have before the pandemic.

The last few months have been painful for ourselves and our friends as we try to stay safe. Swingers are a very social lot, and it is a drastic change to avoid parties and get-togethers. In comparison, we’ve both enjoyed living in Las Vegas, a.k.a. Sin City, still it is a significant change from life back in the mid-west.

In some respects, there is not as much to do here as there was back home. Las Vegas Boulevard or “The Strip” is where all of the tourists congregate to gamble, attend shows, drink, and party. Of course, their definition of “party” is different from ours.

Las Vegas has a number of public on-premise party houses, where you show up to a house and party. Here they are basically commercial operations started by couples in the Lifestyle who monetize house parties.

As anyone who’s thrown a party knows, it’s a lot of work and can often be hard on your home and furniture, especially when you have little control over who walks in the door. A couple will decide to start charging a fee to attend as a way of offsetting the expense and aggravation of holding a house party in their home.

There are maybe a half dozen or so places that have house parties regularly in Vegas, but for the most part, we usually avoid them. Once you’re in the Lifestyle for a while and meet other couples, there are always a few who have regular parties. These “house parties” typically have the same people attend, and there are rarely any issues.

Swingers, for the most part, do not drink, and as such, you don’t have drunks to contend with. The ones who cause issues are often new couples that have problems fitting into the activities. There is sometimes an adjustment period for newbies when you discover your other half with someone new.

For us, we’ll generally hit a party with ten to twenty couples given at someone’s house. If the planners do a good job, they will review the guest list to ensure that the attendees get along. Typically, most people are in the same socioeconomic class and share common interests.

Back home, we had a much wider variety of things to do. There were only a handful of people who threw parties regularly, but we also had nudist camps, strip clubs, and it seemed there was often a convention or large gathering of like-minded people.

While Las Vegas is known for its strip clubs but once again, entrepreneurs screwed it up. Back home, our strip clubs were more like a neighborhood bar where the employees take their clothes off. Here the dancers have an ATM with a time clock attached to their waist to keep track of you making it rain.

Previously, a group of ten couples would hit our favorite clubs a couple of times a month. Some of the clubs have couples nights with male dancers for the girls. The atmosphere is low key, and there is not a lot of pressure to separate you from your money.

It’s always seemed odd to me that once you get away from the Las Vegas Strip, the town is very conservative. Back home, we didn’t have the nightlife around the Strip, but in general, the area would be more liberal.

In Vegas, the weather outside is daunting during the summer, which limits outdoor activities. I think today it was 114 degrees F and pretty brutal. We don’t have much in the way of trees, so being outside is somewhat painful during the day.

My wife enjoys lying out at the pool and working on her tan, but here it has to be under the patio to minimize the intensity of the sun’s burning rays. Most homes have high block walls around the backyard, which are helpful to avoid the peeping Toms next door.

While we would occasionally visit a nudist camp, it was not on our regular schedule. Foxy doesn’t like bugs, and I grew up on a farm, so neither of us missed communing with nature au natural. Some of the couples we know are regular attendees, and one club even had small cabins that people built and would go all the time. For us, camping out was always at the Holiday Inn.

Our previous city has a big swinger’s club that has been in operation since the 1970s, and we were lucky to be introduced into the club by one of the first couples we met. They hold large parties, called socials, three or four times a year with sometimes up to two hundred couples attending.

Then there are always the smaller house parties, which are several times a month. We started having an annual New Year’s Eve Pajama Party at our house with fifty to sixty couples. That was always fun but exhausting. Giving a party is a lot of work, especially for two anal people like my wife and me.

Previously, I owned my own business before moving to Sin City, and as such, my time was a lot freer than now when I have to work for a living! We traveled a lot, and our PJ Parties often had five to ten couples from out of state that we had met at clubs across the country. This meant that our Pajama Party would last for up to three or four days, depending on when New Year’s Day fell. People would start showing up at our house a couple of days before the party, and it would last until the next workday.

I’m not sure why I’m thinking about the good old days, except that now it’s stay at home and FaceTime people for excitement. Eventually, we will have a vaccine, and life will return to something resembling normal. I’m not convinced that a Zoom swinger’s party will be like the real thing!

As Las Vegas is a tourist destination, COVID-19 has hit our economy pretty hard. I’m lucky in that my job is not in the entertainment business, and I think I’m relatively safe from getting laid off, but a lot of people are not that lucky.

I’ve noticed several homes in my subdivision that have been abandoned in the last couple of months, and even in a gated community, there is heightened anxiety about security concerns. But we all need to do what we can to ride this out and stay safe.

As a writer of erotica, I’ve ignored the virus in my writing as I feel people need an escape from the day to day problems and just forge ahead as if nothing is wrong. If you need some explicit HEA sex stories to pound your pud, check me out at LarryArcher.blog/stories.

Stay safely six feet apart and wear your mask! See you next month.

XOXO,

Foxy & Larry

Writing – Craft, Science, or Magic

A mechanic has his impact wrench and a carpenter his hammer, but what tools does a writer use to accomplish his trade? We used to say a typewriter, such as a Royal or Underwood, but today’s writer likely uses a laptop or desktop to ply his/her craft.

I’ve been in the business of writing stories for going on eight years now without the benefit of formal training on the art of stringing words together in a coherent fashion. As a typical engineer, I’ve approached the English language in the same manner as you would a murder hornet. I honestly believe that engineers as a species are born with a genetic defect that renders us incapable of understanding the English language and manipulating it for our own good.

Born during the dawn of computers, the one thing that always sat on my desk was a dictionary or Word Catalog as my friend Maurice always called it. He loved to read the dictionary, but he always complained that the topics kept changing.

Later on, we had a speller to replace the dictionary as we knew what word we wanted to use but were unable to spell it. The “speller” is known under a variety of titles and can only be found these days as a used book. It contains only a list of words without definitions to minimize the size of the book.

My latest copy of Webster’s NewWorld Speller/Divider still sits on my desk as it’s often easier to look up a word that you can’t spell and can’t get close enough for the builtin spell checker program to guess. For instance, nymphomanic is a common word that I get wrong about half the time, or areola is another one I struggle with.

I live in awe of my esteemed colleges when they discuss sentence structure or parsing a sentence. My mouth hangs open at the thought of when to use a noun or adverb, or what that even means? As I always say, “I thought Viagra was used to cure a dangling participle.”

I grew up in what is called “Deep East Texas,” in piney woods country. I usually spent the summers with my grandparents on their reasonably large farm, hunting and exploring the endless woods around their house.

The one thing I learned from growing up in the Texas backwoods, besides the fact grass burrs hurt and being barefoot in a yard with chickens is no fun, was reading. My grandparents had a number of children, and for whatever reason, all of their college textbooks were stored at their home.

Consequently, when it was too hot to play outside, I would grab a textbook and read. That may have been what pointed my path to engineering was the reading of technical books as a child. As an only child, I learned to entertain myself, and my only friend during the summer was Blue, my grandpa’s blue tick hound.

I went to a well respected technical college, which no one has ever heard of outside of academics because we didn’t have a football team. Beyond the required English classes and one semester of technical writing, I had little experience with the English language. To this day, I consider English as a second language.

After a few years as a bachelor in Houston, I took a job in the Midwest, where I met my future bride. I’m not exactly sure how we ended up as swingers beyond the fact we both enjoyed experimenting and were not overly jealous of each other. From others in the Lifestyle, a lot of couples become involved after boredom starts to settle in. For us, it was an adventure where you got to see people naked and having sex without worrying about being arrested for peeping in your neighbor’s window.

The primary drawback to swinging is that you can’t talk about your experiences outside of your peer group. It’s not a topic that comes up around the coffee pot in the breakroom. LGBTQ folks used to be in the same category, but now it seems that we’re still the only ones still in the closet.

Fast forward to one day while reading Penthouse Forum letters that it dawned on me, “I can do this.” If I create a fictitious couple, then I can write about their wife swapping stories, and remain anonymous.

Now over thirty novels and novellas later, Foxy and Larry are the sex-crazed result of my fevered brain!

We were lucky to have surrounded ourselves with a diverse group of perverts to draw from, and there is no lack of story ideas to inspire the next tale. I tend to write somewhat “true” stories and will typically take something that we’ve seen or done and twist it into a stroke story.

We’ve been lucky in the fact that for most of our married life I was a reasonably successful business owner, which gives us a lot of free time. With a private plane, we travel the continental US to visit friends and clubs all over. Swingers are a diverse and exciting group of people and a never-ending source of ideas.

Supposedly the “Dirty Thirty” is a turning point in the career of an erotic writer. Once you have thirty books under your belt, then life gets better, or so they tell me. While I have no idea if that’s true, I have found that the ups and downs of my book sales are starting to flatten out to a relative level rate of sales.

My latest thought is to work on improving my craft, and to this end, I signed up for James Patterson’s Masterclass on writing. I’m partway through the course and have found it interesting, but so far, nothing earth-shattering beyond the fact he makes a hundred million a year, and I don’t.

I started the class as a cynic and so far have not been proven wrong. Like most “How to” books, there are certain basic things you must do to succeed. The first thing is obviously to do something. I am amazed at the number of people who say something like, “I’m going to write my first novel, then within two weeks, I’ll be able to buy my private island and retire.” Then a couple of months later, they disappear and you never hear from them again.

It doesn’t make a difference what you are trying to learn; it doesn’t happen overnight with the possible exception of being shot out of a canon! Having a piece of cardboard does not make you a breakdancer; only practice does.

“I didn’t know this was so hard?” is the first comment uttered by the next Stephen King. If it were that easy, everyone would be a writer!

The nice thing about self-publishing is that you don’t have to lick the boots of the editor. Anyone can publish their drivel, but will people buy it? The one thing Patterson said, along with Stephen King, is that no one bought their first book. You have to be able to accept rejection.

Patterson had over thirty rejection letters after submitting his first story. Stephen King offered the same advice in On Writing, which I highly recommend. Writers must be like the little engine who could, “I’ll never give up, I’ll never give up!”

Be leary of accepting advice from others unless they have the same mindset as you do. Certainly, when someone tells you that you need a comma somewhere, that is a solid piece of advice to heed. However, if it is, “I would have written that paragraph completely differently,” take that advice with a grain of salt.

No two writers will approach a story in the same way, and you need to develop your own unique style. Read the works of authors you consider your contemporaries or those you look up to. Don’t copy, but learn to emulate their style. When someone sells and is ranked higher on the lists, then they are doing something right. Your brother-in-law, who has never sold one of his writings, is not the person to learn from.

Pick wisely and use the advice that makes sense to you, then reject the rest. Above all, keep writing. Patterson recommends that you pick a time when you can write for an hour or two and do that every day. If it means getting up a five a.m. to have some alone time, you should do that.

I believe this but am not hardcore about it. What I’ve found is that if I don’t feel like writing, then forcing myself to write will result in crap. As an author, you must become disciplined about writing, but that’s not an absolute.

What I do is carry a laptop with me virtually 24×7 and have all my stories in the cloud. This way, if I’ve got a few minutes of downtime, I can fire it up and pound away. Now, if I don’t feel productive, then I open a story I’m working on and start reading it. When you open a story that you haven’t seen in a week or so, you will be surprised at the number of mistakes you’ve glossed over. We all tend to see what we want to see and not necessarily what’s actually on the paper.

The big thing that I’ve learned so far from James Patterson is persistence besides the fact he is a multimillionaire. To succeed, you need to try and continue to work until you make it. As a teenager, my father believed that if he could do something, then I could do it. When I said, “I can’t!” my father would say, “You can’t hardly.”

When you hit the wall, take two steps back, and hit the wall harder. My parents are a strange couple, my Dad is a blue-collar construction worker, and my Mom is a psychologist. Together they taught me that nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough. From my Dad, I learned never give up, and from Mom, intelligence will show you the way.

So if there is a story buried in your keyboard, it’s time to fish or cut bait. As Master Yoda says, “There is no try. Either do or do not!”

Well, I think I’ve about run out of paper for this month and will be back with you next month assuming COVID-19 or an angry husband doesn’t get me!

I’m Larry Archer, and I write explicit stroke stories. I don’t write mamby pamby erotica; it’s all about fucking and sucking! There is no other way to dress it up, like putting lipstick on a pig. I’m your guy when it’s time to lock the bathroom door and take care of business. Check out my blog https://LarryArcher.blog

How to Make Your Own Cover

Designing a cover for your masterpiece often involves a lot of hand wringing and angst or the exchange of hard-earned loot. I’m going to walk you through how I use open-source (i.e., Free) software to create a cover image file to send to your publisher.

A lot of people use a cover artist to create a cover, but you have to pay for the service, and sometimes if a book doesn’t sell, then you never get into the black. First, let’s talk about finances.

I’ve always created my covers but assume that a writer is going to spend somewhere between $50 – $300 per cover. You may pay more or less but adjust the numbers to match your unique situation. For the purpose of this explanation, let us assume a price of $50 for a cover. I would think that you are going to pay at least $50.

If your story is going to sell for $2.99 as that’s the lowest price you can charge and get a 70% commission on each sell. Three bucks means that every copy you sell will put about two dollars in your grubby hands

Complicated math tells us that you have to sell 25 copies of your story to pay for the $50 cover design fee. Twenty-five copies may mean that you’ll be working for the cover designer instead of yourself. For a new author, having to sell twenty-five copies may mean that you will never make a penny on a story, much less be able to buy that new vibrator you’ve had your eye on.

I’m going to attempt to create a cover with InkScape for my upcoming story, House Party 3, to show you how easy it is.

First, download the development copy of InkScape 1.1 at InkScape.org. The current released version is 1.0 but go into the development section and download the latest version. You will also need to download 7zip if you don’t have it. 7Zip or another type of decompression program will open the file.

Unzip the file and place it on your computer. Using the Windows explorer look in the \bin folder and double-click on InkScape.exe. The development version doesn’t have an installer yet so you have to manually start it. What I did was create a link on my desktop to run the program.

I create simple covers with typically an image, a text box with my name, and a text box with the name of the story. So it’s three things mashed together.

  1. Double-clicking on InkScape.exe should start the program.
  2. Click on File | Document Properties.
  3. I always make my covers 1600 pixels wide x 2400 pixels high. If you use different size covers, enter the width and length as appropriate. Change the Display Units to Pixels (px).
  4. In the middle of the Page document properties, first change the Units to Pixels (px). Then enter a width of 1600 and a height of 2400. Your Document Properties should look like this.

    Then click on the X to close the window.
  5. After closing the Document Properties, you should see a wireframe and checking the rulers; the size should be 1600×2400.
  6. Using the Windows File Manager, find your cover image. Left click on the image and holding the left mouse button down, drag it over and drop it inside the frame. Just okay the default import options.
  7. The image will likely not fill the wireframe of the cover.
  8. Point in the middle of the picture and holding down the left button, drag the image until the top left corner snaps to the corner of the frame.

    Using one of the corner handles, drag the image until it fills the frame. I’m assuming that your image is the right ratio of width to height. If your image is not a 1:1.5 ratio, then you’ll need to open it with GIMP or PhotoShop and crop it. I’ll save that exercise for another time.
  9. At this point, our wireframe should have the background image fully filling the frame.
  10. Click on the A on the left hand tool box to creat a tex box. Click inside the background image and you should see a blinking vertical bar. Type in “House Party,” without the quotes. Select the pointer tool (the arrow at the left side, top). Then drag the handles until the text looks reasonable. As the background is dark, click the White square on the bottom, which will change the text to white and better contrast the letters against the background.
  11. Pointing in the middle of the text box, drag the words around until they look good. Remember you can drag the handles to change the size of the words.
  12. Using the same method, add a three on the dude’s shirt.
  13. Across the bottom, type in my name, Larry Archer. Our cover is complete!
  14. That wasn’t hard, was it? Now we just need to export the image. This is an area of InkScape that needs to be cleaned up, in my opinion. First, save your cover to the computer.
  15. Click on File | Export PNG Image. Set the Image Size DPI to 300. Then change the width and height to 1600 x 2400. Note that the DPI changes to 96 but ignore that for now.
  16. Click Advanced in the export section, then change pHYs to 300 DPI.
  17. Click the Export As button and select a file name and location.
  18. Then finally, click the Export button, and we are done.

If you right-click on the exported image, it should be 1600×2400 pixels and ready to ship off to your publisher. Pat yourself on the back for saving money and you’ll be able to pocket all that loot rather than sending it off to the cover designer.

What is nice about object software such as InkScape, everything is an object, which can be moved, resized, or deleted easily. Once you have a starting cover, save it as a template. By opening a template, all of the setup steps are already done for you to minimize the amount of work to create a cover.

Until next month, this is Larry Archer, signing off and reminding you that National Masturbation Month is almost over, so keep practicing. If your credit card is burning a hole in your pocket, grab a dirty story to read from Larry Archer. Some of my stories are on Kindle Unlimited and can be read for free. Check out my blog at: https://LarryArcher.blog

Stay Safe, Jerk Off

I hope everyone is working from home or sheltering in place. Foxy and I are lying low, like most people, and trying to ride this out. Our social life has ground to a complete halt, but at least we are not sick yet. If you’re thinking about publishing a story, now is the time as everyone has time to jerk off.

Las Vegas, a.k.a. Sin City is a ghost town, which is really weird. The governor of Nevada jumped on this like a duck on a June Bug and closed the entire town, except essential services. Casinos, restaurants, and most businesses are closed. At least the price of gasoline is close to breaking two bucks. Average prices in Nevada are about seventy-five cents above any other place, except for California. It’s too bad, we can’t go anywhere.

Even the strip clubs are closed, but Little Darlings hasn’t lost their sense of humor. Their sign says, “We’re Clothed.”

I often opine on urging people to write smut and stop talking about doing it. Shoulda, woulda, coulda!

Since next month is National Masturbation Month, I’ve been practicing every day and sometimes more often. I’ll be ready in a week or so to do justice with self-abuse. At least nowadays, most vibrators are rechargeable, which keeps me from having to go to the 7-11 at 2 A.M.

During those times, when I’m resting my hand, I’ve been working with InkScape, which is an open-source graphics design program like CorelDraw. I use CorelDraw to create my story covers as well as Instagram, Twitter, and other advertising images.

Certainly, I realize that you can do the same thing with PhotoShop or GIMP but the “right tool for the right job,” as my auto shop teacher always told me. CorelDraw is not cheap, and if an open-source program can do what I want and is free, that sounds like a winner.

InkScape works well except that the export process to create a JPG for posting has some size issues that require a little post-processing to fix but not too bad. Someone else I know is trying the CorelDraw Home version, which is $60 at Amazon, and getting good results with it. I’m going to stick with CorelDraw, at least for now, as I know it and have been using it for years. It costs me one-hundred bucks a year, and they send me all the new versions, which is not too bad.

I still have a day job, and writing smut is just a fun exercise. My goal is to make enough money to keep me in computers and camera gear. That’s been working pretty well, but my sights are set on a new Canon R5 system, which is going to blow my savings in one fail swoop.

My other long time hobby is photography, and I shoot a lot of models in town. It’s incredible the number of girls who will take their clothes off for pictures. Everybody wants to be a star, and Las Vegas is almost like LA. I trade pictures for modeling, and everyone is happy. The girls are all looking to have photos to post on Instagram. With digital cameras, you don’t have to spend hours in the darkroom and just have to pop the SD card into the computer and, voila, there are pictures.

I got started when I was in high school, and things are so easy today. The new generation of cameras is capable of outstanding results. I used to use a Hasselblad when I shot film, and my Canon digital is so much easier.

Now I’m shooting mostly landscapes, flowers, inanimate objects, Wifey as social distancing makes it more challenging to work with people you don’t know. When COVID-19 is finally behind us, I can go back to shooting girls. Of course, I still shoot tons of shots of Foxy. She was a model when we met, and I’ve got tens of thousands of pictures of her, but variety is the spice of life. She’s my best critic and always helps me edit the photos I take.

Hunker down and stay safe. Read a dirty book and get ready for next month. Foxy and I hope that you stay safe. We’ll get through this!

LarryArcher.blog/stories

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