Tag Archives: Verses Nature

Look till you break

Apart from editing and a final revision, I finished the translation of Joan Barbara Simon’s Verses Nature: In the Beginning Was The Heat. Initially I revolted against the male protagonist, Tatar, as it was very conflicting to put myself in his skin, his mindset and especially his words. I wrestled with him for a long time, but as he is an undeniable reality that can be seen in many lights (and should) I put in every effort to genuinely do him justice in German and reflect who he is or might be for that matter.

 

To bond with the female counterpart, Carmina, was essentially ‘easier’, as her struggle is a well-known and yet potentially kept silent reality of too many women, too many female narratives that remain hidden in the bedroom drawers of pain, shame and agony. She is made of flesh and blood, of bad and good, of pain and pleasure and she is done with apologising, with justifying herself and selling herself short. She rewrites her own story and as hurtful as it is, she changes the predestined conclusion of her life.

 

Even though Verses Nature contains raw sexual matter (so what?), it does not deserve the common, depreciative and cheap stigmata associated with erotic fiction. It is indeed literary if one dares to take the time to dig deeper, read beyond every word and sense and dive into each page without preconceptions and judgements. Each page takes and needs its space in meaning, the process is akin to the musing of a painting, a portrait, as intimate as it gets, to swim through the features and textures of a face, a personality that is deeply flawed, human, hurt and lusting after life. Every time that I thought that I had figured them both out, I was wrong and rediscovered a new aspect that could be closer to the truth. When approaching Verses Nature, one has to do so with an open mind, it takes time and a lot of unburdening, but I managed to sincerely appreciate it, it challenged me and I do not say this because I consider Joan to be a dear friend of mine or because she chose me to be the translator, but because these narratives matter and need to be told and dissected. Even if Tatar might come across as an incredible asshole, a misogynist, a nonsensical skirt chaser or Carmina as threatening, vulgar and uncomfortable, they stand utterly exposed and therefore vulnerable and that’s the point, not to be judged, but to be understood, analysed. Together, they are representative of the social, political, religious, familial and emotional issues that still have a long way to go in today’s society. They cannot be reduced to black and white shades, they are in no way extremes or stereotypical binary oppositions. They might be you and me, then and now, they are intertwined and consist of common dysfunctional and functional features that we all possess and control more or less. Verses Nature is holding up the mirror to your face and challenges you to keep looking. Maybe if you figured out how to gaze, it will break.

(Laura Gentile)

 

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Thank you, Laura, for the excellent translation into German and for this spot-on evaluation of my book! I’m continually tweaking the book’s categories. After adding the subtitle: Memoir Of A Lonely Hotwife, it shot to #1 on amazon yesterday. True, the rankings are updated hourly, so fame is short-lived but the pleasure is nonetheless sweet. I like the word memoir as it shifts the book to a place where fiction and non-fiction may co-reside. Just as Verses Nature can be seen as erotica and more, the social, political reality it depicts also makes its fictional characteristics move beyond fiction to become that ‘more’ which invites us to keep questioning. So readers, if you feel like a challenge, here it is, ready and waiting.

Free hot read for a cold night

 

 

 

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‘I got mine. Go get yours!’

 

Wow, it’s been a great month. This week has been my best in a long time. Thanksgiving is over but that doesn’t mean I plan to stop giving thanks. If you’re over 18 and ready to move beyond erotica, if you’re ready for some ‘high-brow rumpy dumpy’ and you like your fiction hot, deep, original and funny, then grab your free copy of Verses Nature. Free for a VERY LIMITED period!

What was that? Yes, of course you may spread the word.

What? Oh, a review would be lovely!

Whatever it takes

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Time for some new freebies. If you are not afraid to go beyond erotica… not afraid to read what  erotica sites have refused to publish…

 

if you want to know what a real insider from the BDSM scene let me in on, and how this has inspired my writing

 

then I have something for you…

 

(that photo; her face far too cute for naughty business? Naaa. You can’t tell a person’s inclinations just by looking at their face, can you? Now, take me…)

Free for all

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Still ever so pleased with the recent 5-star review of Verses Nature Vol.1 . So pleased that I’m now going to give that book away for FREE on October 29. Make the most of it!

Now  that you can have Verses Nature (In The Beginning Was The Heat) and Verses Nature (The Making Of) for FREE, what more do you want?

What??? Oh, alright then. I’ll give you Long Time Walk on Water (‘Highly, highly recommended’, says a reviewer on Amazon). Free for selected days in November.

What??? Oh, alright then. I’ll also give you Mut@tus (high-brow rumpy-dumpy for you and your friends, but not for your mum!). Free for selected days in November.

Watch this space and kindle promotions on Amazon. Don’t say I’m not nice to you.

 

 

 

when a little critique goes a long way

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I got this review  of Verses Nature (In The Beginning Was The Heat) the other day and I’ve been grinning ever since:

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What does this woman do when she’s happy? She kicks her heels and dances around the house but you won’t get the benefit of that. What I will also do is to give away the companion book, Verses Nature (The Making Of),  for a limited period. Yes, you heard right: for free. No, I’m not after your email address and you won’t need to give it to me. So if you want to know just how ‘200% delicious sin and literary genius’ gets written, click here. No strings attached. Promised.

 

 

good for something

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He drew the line at the menstrual blood I had gathered in a jar of Bonne Maman.
– What’m I sposed to do with that???
– Mix it in with the gravy.

His turn to flinch.

Later, she was in the papers. She had been strangled. Found in her bedroom. No sign of break and enter. They said it was murder but it’s not true; it was an accident.

– You didn’t kill her did you?
– No. Not I.
– I looked him straight in the eye. He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaled into my face.
– I know you think you’ll always win a stare-down, like I know you can look a person straight in the eye and lie to their face. Did you or didn’t you?
– You decide.

Genesis

I remember the exact moment my son, Thibault, was conceived. My wife wanted to have a child four years on into our marriage. I wasn’t so sure; I was already 40. Our whole time together had been one big party till then. Lots of drink, cigarettes and party.

Sleep on your right side, it will influence your dreams, she had picked up from God knows where. So she slept on her right side and dreamt of babies. Every time she thought she had fallen pregnant, she’d try out another one of her best friend’s recommendations. She peed in a goblet and added a large lump of salt. After two hours the salt still hadn’t melted so she wasn’t pregnant. She peed in a plastic box, put a brand new needle in it and put the lot in a cupboard away from sunlight. After eight hours the needle still hadn’t turned rusty or black, so she still wasn’t pregnant. After two years of larking around like this, we conducted some proper tests.

Everything was fine with her, it seemed. The doctor wanted to know if the same could be said for me. So, in I went to the hospital, they gave me a container, said,

‘Bring it back in 5 minutes.’

I went into a room where the tables were covered with porno mags and films. I must have wanked for about an hour, my hand even hurt, but not a drop came out. I went back the next day. Same story. The nurse was standing behind me, she kept coming over every few minutes:

‘Any better today? Come on, make an effort! Have you finished?’

For crying out loud! She should have come over and played with me a little, or let me have a sniff of her, that would’ve been much better.

‘Listen,’

I said,

‘there’s no way this is going to work.’

So they told me to wank off at home the following morning. On an empty stomach, mind, then bottle it and drive it straight over.

That’s what I did. The test results said that I had enough secretion and there was sperm, but that they were extremely tired. Is that any wonder, with the lifestyle we were leading?

*

We went for a week to the Costa del Sol and in that time I had nothing to drink cos the wine there was more like piss than anything else anyway. We ate well; I had lots of meat and just a bit of salad, not all that rice or potato stodge, and I did lots of sport everyday. Avocadoes and almonds were a regular. Loads of vitamin E in both. Good for your sperm. Zinc and selenium in almonds for that extra boost, tho I know that some swear by drinking the water you’d boiled your eggs in once it had cooled. Can you see me drinking continental tap water to foster the birth of my child? I’d be up at five whilst all the other holidaymakers were still snoring, I’d swim for an hour then go up for breakfast. And in the evening, I’d be sure to sprinkle a generous dose of fresh parsley on whatever I was eating; great for men’s reproductive health.

The second time we made love, there was something about the way her body reacted: I knew she had just fallen pregnant. On the flight back, she kept saying,

‘I feel sick, I’m gonna throw up!’

‘My dear,’

I said,

‘you’re pregnant.’

‘Oh, you and your bla-bla-bla!’

She didn’t believe me for a second.

‘When we get back, you’ll go to the chemist for a pregnancy test. I don’t want any more jars of piss in my cupboards, got it?’

The test came back positive. To be on the safe side, I sent her to do a blood test. Positive. I could tell the doctor exactly when the baby was conceived. Not simply the week, but the precise day and the precise hour. He believed me, because it is possible, but very few people are so tuned into their bodies let alone the body of another.

I know the exact moment when both my children were conceived; there was an energy, a reaction: I just knew it. And if I listen deep down in myself, I know that I was a father already at the age of 14. That 19-year-old I had, before my mother had explained to me coitus interruptus.

My wife went along with my biking mania. She did the license and I bought her a brand new Harley. We had money in those days. A brand new Harley with all the trimmings. And our son, Thibault, in his seat on the back.

 

(from the Book of Joseph, in Verses Nature. And because it’s Christmas, here’s a little something extra you won’t forget in a hurry…)

Jacqueline

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I loved a black woman once. Her name was Jacqueline. She was a hooker in a bar, had slept with hundreds of guys, but she was so beautiful. Dark as ebony and so so beautiful.

I was the first guy to sleep with her without protection. The first guy to give her cunnilingus. She ejaculated buckets all over the place.

One day she said that she was pregnant and that the child was mine. When the child was born, I asked her,

Well, Jacqueline, what does the child look like?

It was a son.

Is he mixed, or is he blackblack?

She said he was blackblack.

He can’t be mine then, can he?

She insisted he was.

Ok then, here’s what we’ll do: let’s get a blood test done. If he’s mine, I’ll acknowledge him.

That’s when she bottled out.

Then one day Jacqueline just disappeared. Apparently she had committed suicide. Didn’t want to grow old and lose her looks.

 

I love black women. Love the taste of them. Because they do taste different.

 

(from Verses Nature, out summer 2016)

 

First taste

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My little bunny. Pretty thing with little girl’s feet, lacy socks and champing at the bit.

I had my first taste of it when just a wee boy. Been searching for that something ever since; that of innocence, inattentive of hygiene. A bit fish, a bit salmon… crevettes…

She was the daughter of the shopkeeper who owned the Sadna. Whenever mother went there to buy something, I’d be sure to come along cos I just had to get a glimpse of this little girl tho I saw her at school everyday, but when there was no school, I still had to find a way to see her. We were in love, see. No, really. I now happen to think that her father was rather partial to mother too, he kept slipping her freebies and their hands would brush. She told him of a garlic treatment she knew for warts and another one for hair loss: add five chopped cloves of garlic to three soup spoons of olive oil, soak the paste for two days then apply half an hour before washing your hair, she said. And for that extra shine, don’t throw away the water after you’ve cooked rice, massage it into your hair, leave it on for a while, then rinse.

You’re so knowledgeable, Madame! You know all the tricks of your trade. And I know all the tricks of mine…

Dirty little slimer.

Whilst he was working out ways of getting under mother’s skirt, I’d be half hidden behind mother and his daughter would be half hidden behind him. She’d come to my place after school when mother had gone to work for she knew I’d be alone. We’d get undressed, play mothers & fathers then eat whatever she’d pinched from the store, mostly pastilles Vichy. I tried to penetrate her and others later but it didn’t work. In the beginning I thought their hole was at the front.

(from Verses Nature)

Simply Simon: Dreams & Evolutions

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photo: copyright © 2015 L.W.Eden

Memories sit loose; loose like rotting teeth… Artificial boundaries of words not found in your memory fragile memory always on the move and the air in it is conditional…

I’ve been talking for a while about bringing out a CD. Well then, I’d better start making some recordings! Here’s something I’ve only rehearsed twice. The daughter dreams, the mother reflects. Reality changes colour.