Death by Fiction

2010-08-25T17:42:00.002Z

Sex, lies and murder. The aspiring authors of the Manchester Mystery writers’ circle don’t just write about these vices. They commit them…

There’s been a murder at the Manchester Mystery Writers’ circle. A publisher with a sordid reputation turns up dead at their Friday night meeting. A single shot to the forehead. A cold-blooded execution. And a hotel full of suspects.

It’s a major inconvenience for some. And a golden opportunity for others.

The circle’s five aspiring mystery authors try to work out whodunit.

A policeman, a gangster, a pensioner, a psychopath and a femme fatale.

Each hopes to solve the mystery in his or her own distinctive style. The correct solution could land one of them the publishing contract of their dreams. And all of them try to unravel the crime without exposing their own torrid involvement.

From the novel...

The interview room was a grey cell. As small as life and twice as bleak. Grey walls. Grey ceiling. Grey floor. Grey table. Annabel sat in a grey chair facing a grey-faced Detective Sergeant Cassidy. A grey tape-recorder whispered softly in the background, quietly catching every word she hadn’t spoken.

“For the sake of the record…” Cassidy’s Manchester accent disappeared while he spoke into the tape recorder. Clearly anxious to sound important on the recording he enunciated with the round and plummy tones of a BBC radio announcer from the 1940s. “…it should be noted here that Annabel Blake has refused legal representation.”

Cassidy made no mention of the fact that, before he had turned the tape recorder on, he had said the only suspects who demanded a solicitor present were those with something to hide. She was not naïve enough to believe that was true. She felt slightly insulted that he thought so little of her intelligence as to use the line. Nevertheless, because she felt sure she could conceal the truth, Annabel agreed to be interviewed without a solicitor present.

He cast a glance toward the clock on the wall and said, “The time is now 1:00 a.m. on Saturday, November 9. We are recommencing the interview begun at 10:00 p.m. on Friday, November 8. Those present are myself, Detective Sergeant Franklin Cassidy. Constable Mary Elizabeth Watcham…”

He paused. The uniformed constable muttered, “Present.”
“…and the interviewee, Annabel Blake.”

Feeling a response was needed from her, she said, “Present.”

And then, save for the hiss of the tape recorder and the whisper of its turning spools, there was more silence. Constable Mary Elizabeth Watcham, with her hands behind her back and her breasts thrust boldly into the chest of her flak jacket, studied the clock. Cassidy glowered at Annabel. And Annabel stared at the table.

Because she wasn’t under arrest—because she was only helping the officers with their enquiries—she had been allowed to keep her possessions. She rummaged through her coat and retrieved the three things that were always in her pockets. A tube of L’Oreal grape lipstick, a stainless steel compact mirror, and her Zippo lighter.

Cassidy pointed toward a NO SMOKING sign, the only decoration in the room aside from the clock. She nodded silent understanding of the gesture. But she couldn’t stop herself from tracing a finger over the raised image of the skull and cross bones.

“Come on, Ms Blake.” Cassidy’s tone was gentle and avuncular. The suggestion of a rare smiled teased his thin lips. It was obvious his mouth was not used to forming the expression. “You’re a member of The Great Northern’s writers’ circle. You’re a storyteller. Tell us a story.”

“A story?” she mused. “A mystery story?”

The novelist Mary Roberts Rinehart once said, ‘The mystery story is really two stories in one: the story of what happened and the story of what appeared to happen.’ Annabel reflected on that remembered quotation as she realized there were three possible stories she could tell Detective Sergeant Frank Cassidy.
She could tell him the story he wanted to hear.

She could tell him the story she wanted to tell.

Or she could tell him the story that really happened.

On consideration, she decided the story he wanted to hear and the one she wanted to tell bore the closest similarities. They would probably make for the most acceptable narration. She didn’t think either of them wanted to hear her version of what had really occurred. That twisted and tawdry tale would involve too many personal revelations.

“I wanted to get published.”

Cassidy regarded her coolly.

Watcham stared, unblinking, at the clock on the wall.

“I’ve wanted to be published since…” She paused and wondered how long she had harbored the dream of becoming a writer. It seemed like forever but that would have been a trite and clichéd phrase and she didn’t want the transcript of her conversation with the policeman to be an unsatisfactory read.
“I’ve wanted to be published for as long as I can remember.”

The words surprised her with their truthfulness.

She could recall harboring the desire to write fiction from childhood days when she had first begun reading fairy stories before graduating to simple novels. Turning the pages; being mystified and enthralled by the exciting worlds accessible through printed ink on paper; she had yearned to be one of the gods that created fictional worlds for story-hungry readers like herself. The deep-rooted need to see her own work in print had been a huge part of her life. That desire had dictated her choices of English studies, which was where she had met Chris, her first fateful love. Her need to write had influenced every other major decision in her life, from the therapeutic decision to write about her interpretation of the world and her feelings toward it, through to her subsequent employment in a local library. Annabel thought it was true to say the desire to become a published writer had been with her for as long as she could remember.

But accidentally speaking the truth in this situation was a disconcerting experience. She reminded herself that she was in a police interview room and her words were being recorded. Experience had taught her that, in such circumstances, it would be a mistake to speak the truth.

“That’s how I came to be a member of the Great Northern’s writers’ circle. I wanted to be a published writer.”

Cassidy scratched something on a notepad.

Annabel could see he had a bundle of paperwork with him. It rested on the desk between them by the side of his right arm. Without trying to read any of it—or at least, without making it obvious to Cassidy that she was trying to reading it—Annabel saw one manila folder labeled AUTOPSY REPORT. The words carried the cold finality of death. Gooseflesh prickled her arms. She forced herself to sit still, fearful that an involuntary shiver might be misinterpreted as an admission of guilt.

“You knew White?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“How did you meet?”

“I attended the meeting on the first of this month. That was when Randall Wolf announced that an editor from London would be visiting the group on the eighth.” She stared pointedly at Cassidy. “You weren’t at that meeting.”

He scratched more notes on his pad. “November first?”
She nodded.

“Wolf said the owner of M R White publishing would be visiting the circle. The man was going to give us a lecture about publishing and then we were going to try and sell him our work. I think that was the general plan.”

“But it didn’t happen like that?”

“No. White being dead prevented him from being able to deliver his lecture.”
There was silence.

The recorder hissed softly in the background as it captured every word unspoken.

Annabel and Cassidy considered each other like Grand Masters on opposing sides of a championship chess table. He didn’t seem to blink very often. His eyes were wide. His gaze was unwavering. The whole effect was mildly hypnotic. She thought it was a feature that added to Cassidy’s image of being vaguely reptilian. It was not an attractive look. No one ever said, ‘as pretty as a snake,’ or ‘as handsome as a lizard.’
He coughed. “So, you met White before he died.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“The Great Northern Hotel. The bar, to be specific.”

“When?”

“Thursday night. Thursday the seventh of November. About ten o’clock.”
“What happened?”

She willed her cheeks not to blush. “I’m a writer. He was a publisher.” It sounded like the start of a ribald joke. She was a writer, he was a publisher, and he showed her how to submit. There was an unpleasant truth at the centre of that humor. And it was as much as she was going to tell Cassidy about her meeting with White. There was no need to explain she had been dressed like a cheap hooker on Thursday night.

Excerpt Ends

Death by Fiction (the eBook version) will be released on August 30th 2010. The print version will be available later this year. Ordering details are available on: http://kokoropress.wordpress.com.

A New Address

2009-07-01T03:18:00.001Z

This is just a short, public service announcement to say that I've started writing with the fine people over at Oh Get a Grip. If you want to see my writing (and the writing of some damned fine sexy and witty authors) you seriously need to check out: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com/

Best,

Ashley Lister

SWINGERS: Female Confidential

2008-07-19T16:18:00.002Z

I've just read the last blog entry for this page which begins, "Don't expect to hear much from me over the next few weeks..." Well, I hadn't expected it to be quite such a long time.

But now I'm back and buzzing with news. Forget the awards, accolades and certificates recognising my genius. The most important thing I have to say here is that SWINGERS: Female Confidential is now on sale in the UK.

Which, I know, is nothing more than shameless publicity. But the book is damned good and well worth the money. If I hadn't written it and received a nominal number of author's copies, I'd be rushing out to get one of these.

What's in the book? I'm glad you asked. Female Confidential is filled with interviews I carried out with female members of the swinging community. The format follows the same idea as the original title, allowing the swingers I spoke with to give their own slant on the lifestyle, but this time I was only speaking to women.

Well, that's not technically true. I spoke with some couples where the male partner was insistent on being heard. But those interviews didn't make it to the final draft. This is just me chatting with the ladies - and talking non-stop sex.

Who did I talk with? Well, that would be telling. I've spoken with swingers who can otherwise be described as sexy students or glamorous grannies, and most other alliterative phrases from inbetween those two ends of the spectrum.

The Daily Record did a large feature on the book earlier this week (they called me King of the Swingers, which was very sweet of them) and I've been speaking to a couple of radio stations about the book and about swinging over the past few days too.

I shall now make a solemn promise to try and be more dilligent with this blog. I've been a bad boy for not updating more regularly. I must try harder.

Thanks for reading - and look forward to more stuff very soon.

Best - xx

Ashley Lister
PS - Why are you still reading? Either rush out to the shops and buy the book, or log onto Amazon and get yourself a copy.

January - Reading List

2008-01-05T15:03:00.000Z

Don't expect to hear much from me over the next few weeks. Aside from having exams and essays to complete, I am also chomping at the bit to get on with some serious reading.

In no particular order:

I've got my sweaty little hands on a review copy of Suzanne Portnoy's forthcoming title "The Not So Invisible Woman." Suzanne Portnoy wrote the remarkable "The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestickmaker" and (from what I've read so far) this title looks equally exciting and entertaining.

I've also got an advance copy of Rachel Kramer Bussel's "Sex & Candy," an anthology that combines my most favourite succulent and satisfying pastime with sweets. If that wasn't enough, I'm also expecting a copy of Gwen Masters' lastest novel, and I've been keeping a book-thief's eye on my wife's copy of Belle de Jour.

So, if you write to me and I don't respond, the chances are it's because I've been busy with one of the aforementioned titles. I only hope my eyesight isn't adversely affected by all this extra reading.

You can judge a book by its cover

2007-12-22T07:56:00.000Z

They say: “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

This is, of course, absolute bollocks. I’ve walked round Waterstones and W H Smiths this Christmas. I’ve seen the covers for books about terrorism, sex, zombies, sex, vampires and kinky sex. These covers have all been well rendered and I’ve instantly judged: none of the books would make ideal Christmas presents for any of my pre-school nephews or nieces.

And, if I needed further proof that this saying is rubbish, I yesterday received cover proofs for my forthcoming title, Swingers: Female Confidential. The picture is lurking somewhere on this page and, if it’s uploaded properly, you can see that it looks truly fantastic.

I really am impressed with this cover. I love the image; I love the no-nonsense font that’s been used for my name; and I love the saucy green panties that the model is wearing. Isn’t it a coincidence that I own a pair in exactly the same colour?

For those of you who are interested in such things, the book is available on 10th July in the UK with the US release date still to be confirmed. Whereas my first Swingers title (Swingers: True Confessions From Today’s Swinging Scene) concentrated on interviews with swinging couples, Swingers: Female Confidential focuses on intimate confessions from female swingers.

It was fun to research; it was a pleasure to write; and I sincerely hope it proves a joy to read. Being honest, I think the cover looks so good I’m off to pre-order a copy for myself.

Seedy?

2007-12-18T11:52:00.000Z

After reading the News.Scotsman's report on an Edinburgh swingers' club, I've been burrowing into my dictionary to find out what the word SEEDY means.

Of course, I have a general idea of what it means. It's one of those words that is used fairly regularly, and usually in the pejorative sense. Occasionally, when I've bought one of those health food bars, that look like something solidifed from the bottom of a hamster cage, I've complained that it tasted too "seedy." But, usually this has been because the main ingredients were sunflower seeds and other pips and vegetarian unpleasantness. However, I'm aware that seedy doesn't always mean, "full of, or containing many, seeds."

According to my faithful dictionary (well, I say faithful, but I know that a couple of other guys have flipped through her pages looking for good times, and other compound phrases) seedy means:

1) sordid and disreputable
2) shabby or squalid
3) unwell

All of which confirms my initial thoughts that it has negative connotations and its use in the pejorative sense is contextually appropriate to everything except the health food bar.

The article photograph for this piece is entitled, "SEEDY." The second headline is entitled "AN UNCOMFORTABLE BRUSH WITH THE SEEDY SIDE OF LIFE." The journalist muses as to whether or not the swingers club she is visiting will be boring or seedy (glad to see the writer wasn't going there with completely negative preconeptions).

I'm tempted to write here about the injustice of this style of journalism, and the blatant subjectivity of the reporting. But those facts are plainly obvious to anyone reading the piece. Anyone with half a brain can see that this was written not to inform, but only to denigrate swingers. Anyone with less than half a brain is ideally qualified to rewrite the article.

I could say lots of things about the standard of journalism here but I think it's enough for me to wonder why the Scotsman don't put an apostrophe in the phrase swingers' clubs. I know possesives can be tricky, but I think the absence makes the text look "seedy." Although, that's just my subjective opinion.

This is the link to the article. http://news.scotsman.com/latestnews/In-with-the-swingers-at.3589972.jp But please beware of the consequences if you choose to read this. An intrepid reporter visits a "seedy" swingers club and then reports her shock at discovering swingers there.

Who would have expected that?

The Saddest Man in the World

2007-12-16T07:04:00.000Z

Hi Readers,

It's been a long time since I updated this page. All I can say by way of apology is that I've been incredibly lazy and indulging in displacement activity. On a positive note, my high scores on Tetris have gone through the roof.

This post is a celebration of The Saddest Man in the World. This post is a celebration of the incrediblly small-minded Mr Jack Martin from Dallas, Texas.

To provide a little background information, Jim Trulock and Julie Norris are Dallas Swingers. This is their website: http://www.cherrypit.org/. Jim and Julie host swinging parties and have hosted them for several years. Over the past year complaints have been filed with the police and now the couple are fighting the law. They are fighting for their right to live the lifestyle they want, content to keep their swinging restricted behind the closed doors of their own home and enjoying the pleasures that come from consensual adult fun.

Jack Martin is one of their neighbours. His quote on the situation earns him my nomination for being The Saddest Man in the World. "It's immoral. Would you want someone living next to you who was a pedophile if you have a bunch of kids? It's on the same line. The frame of mind is the same. The end result is the same: sex."

The logic here is worth investigating. His first sentence, "That's immoral," is something of a judgement call and we have to let that one go. Moralities are subjective and Mr Martin is perfectly entitled to believe what is and isn't moral.

But it's the rhetorical question that comes next that's worth looking at more closely. "Would you want someone living next to you who was a pedophile if you have a bunch of kids?"

I appreciate this is a rhetorical question, and therefore doesn't require a response: but it needs one.

No, Mr Martin, I would not want someone living next door to me if they were a pedophile and I had a bunch of kids. I would prefer to live somewhere where pedophiles are arrested and incarcerated; somewhere where the police have the time and resources to track down those pedophiles, rather than wasting their resources prosecuting partygoers.

In short, I would prefer to live somewhere where my neighbours have sufficient intellect to know that a bunch of kids is called "a family," and I would prefer to live close to neighbours who can differentiate between sex crimes and consensual sex.

Mr Martin then says, "It's on the same line."

I have to point out that it is not on the same line. Mr Martin lives near some swingers who host parties. He is a 74 year old retiree. Swingers go to their party and enjoy themselves. Mr Martin then complains to the police about the immorality of their doings. I'm not quite sure how this is on the same line as pedophillia. Unless the swingers are arriving at the party, armed with balloons and sweeties which they intend to use as a lure for Mr Martin, this situation is not remotely on the same line as living next door to a pedophile.

Mr Martin concludes his rhetorical uses of tripartite syntactic repitition with the sentence, "The end result is the same: sex."

Well, again, we'd have to point out that the end result of pedophilia is obscene and criminal and involves an egregious lack of consent. This is hardly the same as a party of swingers finishing the night by swapping phone numbers and promising to meet up next week.

The full article is available from Newsweek on: http://www.newsweek.com/id/78032. But it makes for bleak reading.

It's sad that people have to fight for their right to live their own lives behind closed doors. It's even sadder that people like Mr Martin are in a position to make their lives miserable. However, the saddest thing of all is that MrMartin is clearly an individual who believes that every pleasurable sex act is akin to pedophillia.

That sort of mentality is truly, truly sad.

Lust Bites

2007-07-22T14:52:00.000Z

I should have mentioned it before I went there, but that's one of the disadvantages of being terminally disorganised. On Friday I spent the day with the charming folks at the Lust Bites website. The wonderful Alison Tyler had invited me, I rambled on for a little while about the seven deadly sins, and then spent a fantastic afternoon chatting to many of the regular readers at Lust Bites.

Thanks to everyone who made me feel welcome. Thanks to all those people who said "Ashley Rocks." And my sincerest apologies that I didn't get the chance to respond to everyone. It really was a fun day and I'll be visiting Lust Bites regularly from now on.

For those of you who are reading this and don't know how to find the Lust Bites website, they're at www.lustbites.bloggerspot.com. Any day of the week,they're well worth the visit.

Ash
www.ashleylister.co.uk

Reasons For Not Blogging

2007-06-17T17:09:00.000Z

I can't believe it's been nearly a full month since I last wrote this blog. Aren't I a lazy sod?

Well, laziness is only a small part of the problem. The last blog date was on May 21st and, with that being the start of exam week for me, I think I was fair in taking some time off to revise. I also think I was justified in having a little downtime after the intense rush of so much hard work. Well, hard work for a student.

But I haven't just been lounging round since then - honest. I've had valid reasons for not blogging. At the start of June I went to a doll fair in Peterboro, and managed to include a trip to see King Lear at Stratford in the trip. Ian McKellan produced more for the title role than I was expecting and I can honestly say there are few actors of his magnitude currently working in the British theatre.

I've also been interviewing swingers for the next Swingers title. This is always fun but it's a little bit like drinking beer. The more you do it the more you know you're going to suffer aftrwards. I'm thinking primarily of the chore that is typing up notes after a lengthy interview session. If there are any other connotations suggested by the above I'll leave you, dear reader, to work out what they might be.

On top of that I've been tidying up a couple of other projects, going through proofs - Christ don't you just love that particular task - and catching up with a million and one jobs that have been sitting on standby until I'd got all the college stuff out of the way.

But now I'm back and I'll be doing my level best to blog every couple of days.

I hope you haven't missed me too much. Kisses to all and thanks for all the emails of concern. They were genuinely appreciated.

Ash
www.ashleylister.co.uk

cummings & goings

2007-05-21T12:11:00.000Z

I haven't been on here for the past week, mainly because the pressure of exams and revision has been keeping me busy.

However, I've written a poem that some of you might appreciate. Because the linguistic course I'm on keeps shoving the poetry of e.e. cummings down my throat, I thought I'd share a poem I've written in the style of e.e. cummings.

This should read like unintelligible drivel to those of you who haven't come across cummings before and it will not read much differently to those of you who are familiar with his work.

I hope to post more frequently as soon as the last exam is out of the way.

me@ashleylister.co.uk

A POEM IN THE STYLE OF e.e. cummings

i scratch my nuts,nuts my scratch i
)&itypeanothershitepoem(

pre
ten
tioustwat
that i am

fcuk! caps lock unworking
spacebarnowjammed

talent
less

unlistened
mislooked
unbound-bound-free-morpheme

?typO
?neOlOgism
?Orb
OllOx?

they itch again
do i scratch the nuts?
or do the nuts scratch me

You've Got Mail

2007-05-13T15:37:00.000Z

I've been doing a lot of emailing these last few days. It's a hard life, isn't it? I try and make my emails short, courteous and to the point. I have never sent out spam or mass market rubbish.

Yet still I get more than my fair share of these nuisances. Today I received 20 offers to purchase Viagra and Cialis, to help me with my ED (Erectile Dysfunction) and PE (Premature Ejaculation). Not that I suffer from ED or PE but that doesn't stop these morons from sending me offers and suggestions to help with the problem.

I've tried writing to the original drug-dealers/emailers, asking them to stop. But that doesn't help. I even told one of these kindly pill-pushers that I don't suffer from PE yet and, ironically, their offer of help had "come too soon."

And still they send me more emails.

Not that I've got anything against medicines to help with problems of the cheeky parts.

But one of the spam/emails that I've received several times over the past few weeks has disconcerted me. This is an illustrated advert for a penis patch. I'm not sure what a penis patch is. Usually, I see the word penis, make sure it's not an email from my mother, and then hit the delete button.

But it's the picture in this one that freaked me out.

Obviously these people are trying to sell some sort of patch that improves the length/girth resillience of a penis. I've got nothing against that. Hell! I've never had anything against anyone's penis. Never. But this shows a line drawing of the cartilege and erectile tissue beneath the skin.

In short, it looks like a peeled penis.

Call me old fashioned, and maybe I should have read the unwanted advert in closer depth, but at first glance this spam looks like I'm being offered the chance to buy a product that will peel my penis.

Sometimes, the words "no thanks" simply don't say enough.

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Uniform Arousal

2007-05-12T05:06:00.000Z

Uniforms have never really been a big turn on for me.

Obviously nurses hold a strong appeal. But I prefer the fantasy style of nurse who have to wear heels, seamed stockings and naughty mini skirts that don't quite cover the buttocks. The reality, some hard working lass wearing flat shoes, wrinkled tights and a dress that smells of antiseptic and vomit, doesn't just have quite the same effect.

Yet uniforms have a strong hold on quite a few people's erotic imaginations.

We've all heard of politicians who have "a thing" for a particular football strip. And the majority of stripper-grams will offer the services of a "naughty police woman" complete with handcuffs. But it isn't just men who have their buttons pressed by the stimulating thought of a saucy uniform. Uniforms can also hold a powerful sway for women.

In sign language last week we were talking about work and occupations. It was difficult for me. I'm a writer and student therefore I don't know what work is. But the rest of the class found this one of the simpler chores.

Did I mention that the majority of our class are female? No? I guess I'm getting absent minded in my old age. Anyway, the female class all sat to attention when one of the class's few males subjects took the chair and began to sign about his job.

He introduced himself and explained he is a fireman.

You've never heard the silence of a sign language close grow so intense. The mood was so electric that I thought one of the overhead lights would be likely to pop. Fifteen women leant forward in their seats, all of them watching avidly as our resident fireman signed his way eloquently through a description of his uniform, helmet and pole.

One lady almost fell out of her seat. Another had to be excused and rushed flustered from the room. A third simply smiled at him, tongue lolling from the corner of her mouth. Shit! He even turned me on a little bit.

A brief Q & A followed but it had fallen into the lapses of smut and filth.

"How big is your pole?"

"How many men can slide down your pole in one day?"

"Do you polish your helmet?"

Eventually, the rest of the class told me to stop asking questions.

Reflections

2007-05-08T19:34:00.000Z

I guess I'm in a fairly reflective mood today so, if you want to skip the potential gloominess, I don't blame you. See you next time.

For those masochists who are left...

You know those days when you start to think about stuff? Wow! Good word from a writer there. You can see the college classes have paid off. Shall I start again?

You know those days when you reflect on all that you've learnt from life - and then realise you are clearly not very good at learning? Well, I've been having one of those days today. What have I been reflecting on?

Women appreciate a sense of humour - but employers don't rate this attribute very highly. (In particular I'm thinking about a managing director I used to work for who never laughed when I passed on telephone messages along the lines of "David! Your mummy called.")

Actually, do women appreciate a sense of humour? I started to tell a joke to my sister-in-law recently, saying, "You're a fat lass, you'll appreciate this..." and she didn't stick around to hear the gag. I think that proves that some women don't have a sense of humour.

I'll move on before I offend anyone. What else have I been reflecting on?

Good sex is very much like the TV remote: you can spend hours trying to find it, when you used to manage the same task by hand in a few satisfying seconds.

Is this a brown study, or am I languishing in a blue mood? I've never had the ability to associate colours with moods, apart from the colour red. Red is for sex, danger, traffic lights and painful inflmataions. All the other associations of colour seem (to me) to be pretentious and contrived. Blue doesn't make me feel particularly tranquil. It's just blue. The colour of a blue sky or the colour of a blue sea or the colour of a blue towel. And brown simply confuses me, especially the pale ones: is it fawn, tan, milk chocolate, sepia? what the hell is it? I can only ever associate the colour green with cheese that's been forgotten in the fridge. And, in British Sign Language, the sign for yellow is to draw a line from your ear as though ear wax has dribbled out. I don't really want to associate anything with that. It's kind of a icky.

Icky! Another good college word.

OK, I'm rambling. I'll cut this short and let you get on with your stuff. Thanks for reading. Thanks even more for commenting.

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Reviews

2007-05-07T06:39:00.000Z

My mother always told me, "If you can't say something nice, then keep your big f***ing mouth shut." I'm paraphrasing here. She wasn't always so erudite. But the sentiment has remained with me throughout the years. It's a sentiment I always keep in mind whenever I'm reviewing books.

This isn't the same as praising books and ignoring the faults. Most books I review have something in them that merits the cover price, or I simply don't review them. If it's strong in one area but week in another, I'll mention this. Readers are entitled to have some sort of idea about what they're buying. But, if there is a problem with a book I'm reviewing, I try to mention the flaw without being rude, crude or scathing.

That said, I do enjoy the occasional cleverly worded insult. The often used phrase, "I shall waste no time reading this..." always makes me grin. But I don't understand the mentality of people who pan books simply for the sake of panning of them.

As you may have guessed, I've just come across an unfavourable review for one of my pseudonyms. This one was on one of the wonderful Amazon sites and relates to one of my first titles. The critic has said that it fails in "...spelling and gramar..."

Dear critic: please make a sentence that includes the following three words: pot, kettle & black.

There's a certain degree of irony in having my spelling and "gramar" berrated. It makes me feel as though I've received a low mark on a term paper that's annoted, "muss tri hardar."

Not that I'm going to let it spoil my mood or interfere with my plans for the day.

Eye ham know of too revue sum mower bucks. Hand eye mite evian use ass spell chequer.

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Technology

2007-05-05T09:31:00.000Z

If I had the technical skill I would organise a poll for this website. Unfortunately I have enough difficulty remembering my password each morning, so the chances of my organising a poll are fairly remote.

Which is strange really, I've always thought of myself as being bright enough to understand most innovations. However, I only seem to understand them a decade after everyone else has gotten to grips with the subject and decided the knowledge is either obsolete or passe. I'd just managed to operate our household's VCR before it got replaced by a DVD recorder. I'm pretty sure, by the time I've learnt how to use the DVD, we'll have moved onto using the HDD.

So, in the absence of a proper poll facility, I'd like to know which innovations of the last few decades you think has best helped to advance sexual adventurousness. Has the internet made it easier for swinging couples and singles to hook up? Do you think email or digital photography have better helped like-minded adults to get together? It something contemporary like Sat-Nav? Or, like me, are you still marvelling at all the things you can do with a betamax camcorder?

Answers to the usual address please:
me@ashleylister.co.uk

Embarrassing

2007-05-04T07:41:00.000Z

Last night I went to my usual sign language class. The mood was fairly light because the week before we'd just completed our second exam. The lesson was structured into two halves with the first including new vocabulary and the second being a chance to use that vocabulary in conversation with other classmates.

The topic was WORK and OCCUPATIONS.

Which meant we learnt the signs for NURSE, FACTORY, OFFICE and POLICEMAN. They were fairly simple. NURSE involves using your thumb to make a plus sign against your bicep. POLICEMAN is made by stroking two fingers against the back of your wrist.

I asked if POLICEMAN could also be signed by using a curled fist in front of your nose. As this is the sign for PIG I was told, in no uncertain terms that the use of this sign in those circumstances was not acceptable.

And then we moved onto conversation. I sat opposite a very large guy. We exchanged names in sign language and then I asked him his occupation. He stroked two fingers across the back of his wrist.

Which is probably not my most embarrassing moment. Admittedly, I did want to crawl into a hole and die, but that's a pretty common state of mind where I live.

All of which is my way of asking how bad was your most embarrassing moment? Particularly if it relates to swinging (although I always enjoy the schadenfraude of someone else's misery) how badly have you put your foot in it - and what did you do?

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Breasts

2007-05-03T15:21:00.000Z

Circumstances recently took me to a job interview where I faced five women. I was wearing my best suit and shinest shoes and looking quite splendid and lovely. I'd washed and shaved my important parts and I smelled like a florists shop on Valentine's Day. The only cloud on the horizon was the fact that each of the women wore a name badge on the breast of their blouse.

I'm not going to mention that one of the women was called PAT. A badge with the word PAT pinned to a lady's left breast reads like an invitation. And, for clarity's sake, I should point out that each lady only wore one badge, it wasn't like the left breast was called JANE and the right one was called MARY.

But the situation did present a problem for someone with my delicate sensibilities. In most polite circles it's rude for a gentleman to publicly ogle a lady's breasts. But I was in an interview where I was expected to address these people by name, and the names were printed on their breasts. Should I have taken the stupidly polite route, not used their names, and saved myself the embarrassment of being thought to be ogling. Or would they understand that, when my eyes kept dipping to their cleavage, I wasn't trying to get an eyeful. I was only trying to read their names?

Consequently I didn't get the job. Perhaps it had something to do with my directing too many questions to MRS D CUP and MRS NIPPLE.

But I would like to hear some feminine voices on this issue. Do you enjoy having your assetts admired? Or is it creepy to have guys leering?

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Wednesday

2007-05-02T05:00:00.000Z

As most of you will be aware, I seldom update on a Wednesday. This is partly because Wednesdays are busy for me (skool, pedicure, bath day etc) and partly because I lack the imagination to write this block seven days a week.

However, after being given the honour of writing the ERWA newsletter earlier this week, and receiving such tremendous feedback from so many people, I thought it appropriate to spend my Wednesday morning thanking everyone for their kind words.

THANK YOU.

If you're here and looking for witty words of wisdom, then this post has come at the wrong time of the day for you. I'm only two coffees into the morning and still rolling my first cigarette. Humour only comes after I've been sufficiently toxinated to cope with the forthcoming trials and tribulations.

Although I did smile a little last night. I was watching a reality TV show where the show's host was encouraging a lady (unhappy with her figure) to model lingerie on a catwalk in front of X thousand people. After her successful appearance on the catwalk (and she did look fantastic) the host said, "Thank you for pulling it off for me."

Now that's my kind of reality TV ;-)

Ash
me@ashleylister.co.uk

Books

2007-05-01T06:41:00.000Z

Erotic writing is probably one of the most stimulating accoutrements a person can enjoy with a satisfying sex life. Admittedly adult movies are good in their place. But the thrill of reading an arousing narrative is (in my opinion) more fulfilling.

Which gives rise to another question for the swinging couples reading this: do you read erotica?

If you don't, what do you read?

If you do, who do you read? Do you share books with your partner? Do you take ideas from the titles you've read? Or do you find that some authors lack an understanding of what you know to be true?

As always, you can contact me at me@ashleylister.co.uk.

Best?

2007-04-27T19:16:00.000Z

For all those swingers out there who are reading this, I'd love to know which is best: before, during or after?

Do you find the anticipation of a night's fun is more entertaining the night itself? Is planning, discussing and fantasising about the event more fulfilling than the majority of incidents?

Or is the experience itself the sole source of excitement?

Or do you get off on the thrill of getting back together with your partner at the end of the evening when you share your memories and relive the experience?

Opinions, experiences and anecdotes are always appreciated. This site wouldn't exist without your feedback.

Hair Today

2007-04-23T11:42:00.000Z

Last night I watched a programme about female body hair. Yes. It doesn't take much to get me sat in front of the TV set, does it? It was an interesting programme where the presenter pointed out that female body hair is reviled by most corners of society. Vox Pop interviews with men on the street showed a bigotry against body hair that bordered on the fanatical.

Obviously the cases shown in this programme were extreme. Or were they?

Do any of you have extreme views on female body hair? Does it have to be bare? Is hairy scary? Or are you follicle freindly and happy with hirsute?

me@ashleylister.co.uk

Cosmetic Enhancements

2007-04-22T18:08:00.000Z

Again, thanks for all the offline messages I've received.

Today, I'd love to hear from anyone who has thoughts about cosmetic enhancements. Boob jobs, tummy tucks, labioplasty, or even a touch of anal bleaching. Have you had your appearance surgically improved to add something extra to your swinging experience? Or are you already perfect without enhancements? When selecting a potential partner do you respond differently if you believe someone has had cosmetic surgery? Is it a deal breaker or a passion killer?

As always, your responses will be treated in the strictest confidence.

Ash: me@ashleylister.co.uk

One for the ladies

2007-04-21T13:14:00.000Z

From dated statistics, and from general anecdotes, a lot of the swingers I've spoken to have entered the lifestyle because the male half of the partnership expressed an interest in swinging. I know this isn't universal, I know there are some couples who've entered the lifestyle through the female initiative, but I'd like to hear from them today.

Are you a lady who thought: that's what I want! Are you a wife who first broached the subject? As always, I'd love to hear from you, whether it's as a comment, or if you want to drop me a private mail to me@ashleylister.co.uk I'm anxious to know how you approached the subject, what reactions you expected and what response you eventually got.

Too Kinky

2007-04-16T06:25:00.000Z

Imagine the scene:

You're three hours into a swinging party. So far you've flirted with another couple, embroiled yourselves in a brief but satisfying MFM threesome and you're planning on visiting the playroom to fulfil an orgy fantasy that has always made you both horny.

Then someone whispers something suggestive in your ear and you turn round and say:

"No. That's way too kinky for our tastes!"

What could possibly be too kinky after stretching so many boundaries? What do you consider too extreme? As always, I'm waiting to hear more of your wonderful stories.

Secrets Revisited

2007-04-15T21:25:00.000Z

I mentioned secrecy the other day and posed the question "Why do some swingers feel the need to keep their swinging secret?" At the time I thought it was a valid point. If a person swings, what business is it to anyone else? What possible difference could it make to those outside swinging if they are informed about the activities of friends or family who do swing.

And then I watched the news. It was wall-to-wall royal family. The media was only interested in covering the story of one of the princes breaking up with his girlfriend. I can't remember which prince it was. My interest in the royal family doesn't stretch far enough for me to look up their names. But I was stunned by the media's voracious interest in the simple break-up of some young bloke and his girlfriend. Every bulletin had an update. Reporters and camera crews were camped outside his house, outside her house, talking to friends, trying to get a statement from the palace...

You get the picture.

Which is my way of saying I can totally understand why some people would want to keep their swinging a secret. If the press are going to invest so much time and effort into something as a boyfriend and girlfriend breaking up, imagine what they'd be like if they got wind of a story about someone interesting - like a swinger!

Bisexuality

2007-04-14T21:49:00.000Z

Several of the female swingers I've spoken to have said a lot about their bisexuality being the reason for their swinging. This makes sense but, it doesn't seem to have a the same balance on the male side.

Yes, there are many bisexual male swingers. I've spoken to dozens of them and appreciate that the bisexual element of their personality was a motivating factor that encouraged them towards swinging. But their seems to be a disparity in figures. I'd say that one in five guys I've spoken with admits to some bisexual tendencies, while for women I'd say that one in five renounced the idea of having any bisexual interest.

Would you agree that I'm right with these figures? Or have I just been speaking with the wrong guys and girls? Feedback would be particularly appreciated on this topic. Enquiring minds etc. You all have the email address (it's at the bottom of the page for newcomers) and I appreciate hearing your thoughts.

Secrets

2007-04-13T16:03:00.000Z

This morning I was working on an article about the secrecy involved in swinging.

Not everyone keeps their swinging secret. Some people are able to let family and friends into this aspect of their life without fear of any social repercussions. But, for the majority of swingers, there has to be some element of secrecy.

The kids don't need to know. Parents wouldn't understand. There are some friends who aren't THAT broadminded.

So, do you keep your swinging secret? Who from? Why? Have you told anyone and wished you hadn't? Have you told someone with pleasant results? As always, I'm anxious to know these things.

ERWA

2007-04-12T14:12:00.000Z

After yesterday's entry on books, and that's a theme to which I will come back, I've received a couple of e-mails from people who write fiction asking questions about writing related issues.

The short solution is ERWA. The Erotic Readers & Writers Association. To be found at http://www.erotica-writers.com/

If you enjoy reading or writing erotica, ERWA is the place to be. A friendly, supportive group welcome newcomers and offer advice and encouragement. I write a regular column or two there, as well as supplying occaional book reviews, but even if I didn't write for them I would have to recommend this priceless resource.

Books

2007-04-11T09:44:00.000Z

I've started a list of books I'm currently reading, positioned somewhere on the left of this page. I'm going to keep adding to it as I continue here but I'd appreciate any suggestions for additional titles or authors that I might not have come across.

Perhaps it's because I'm a writer, but I've always thought books have a special power. Erotic fiction is particularly powerful because I don't think any other genre can work so effectively on the senses. There are few romances that can vividly recapture the emotive experience of being in love. There aren't many action/adventure stories that truly get your heart pounding as though you're involved in the developing narrative.

In my opinion, the only genre (other than erotic fiction) that comes close to achieving this is horror. Stephen King, and the late Richard Laymon, are both authors who have written passages tht have had me unnerved and frightened. But these two are exceptions. The majority of fiction doesn't come close to recapturing the essence of the mood it's trying to evoke.

Except for erotic fiction.

So, if there are any titles that have really worked for you, or any authors that always ring your bells, please let me know so I can add to my library.

Location, Location, Location

2007-04-10T06:26:00.000Z

Where's the strangest place you've ever done it?

That question always reminds me of an old story - I don't know if it's true or not. A game show was piloted along the lines of Mr & Mrs. This was a raunchier game show, asking ruder questions, but basically the same format. The husband and wife are separated, asked identical questions, and then their answers are compared.

So, in this pilot episode, one of the questions they are asked is, "Where's the most unusual place you've ever made love?"

His answer: "On the kitchen table."

Her answer: "Up my ass."

I know. It's old and everyone's heard it. But it always makes me grin.

But seriously, or as seriously as it's likely to get round here: where is the most unusual place you've ever made love?

Watersports

2007-04-09T09:06:00.000Z

Thanks to everyone who's been in touch with me recently.

One email I received mentioned watersports and we agreed this subject is one of those areas that people either love or hate. I was tempted to call it "a Marmite" subject but good taste prevents me from comparing any excretory sexual act to a condiment that's brown, moist and sticky.

But, getting back to the point, watersports are a fairly contentious issue. The majority of people I know fall into one camp or the other on this subject: either GOD YES or CHRIST NO. Which is surprising really. The numbers seem fairly evenly divided but I seldom speak to anyone who says, "Watersports: I can take them or leave them."

I wonder why this particular kink produces such varied opinions? Any suggestions or observations would be greatly appreciated.

My Excuse - I've been playing with Dr Kamikaze

2007-04-08T06:11:00.000Z

I apologise if you're waiting for me to get back to you. Technically it's not my fault. It's Dr Kamikaze. I think that's his name. He's the Brain Training Guy and I have to concede that either he's highly addictive or I'm a very weak-willed individual.

Considering I smoke, drink and have never once resisted temptation, it's probably me at fault on this occasion, but I'm digressing here, aren't I?

I've been playing Dr Kamikaze's Brain Training game, and it really is absorbing. According to the good doctor an ideal brain age is somewhere in its 20's. I'm struggling to get down from a score of 72.

But I don't see that as a negative. I think Dr Kamikaze hasn't thought this through.

Personally, if I were setting up a think tank, the last thing I would want to employ would be people with a brain (and corresponding body) age of 20. This is the equivalent of employing one of the Cheeky Girls instead of Stephen J Hawkings. Admittedly, the office parties are likely to be more fun but, if you're wanting to get some serious work done, then you've probably made a big mistake.

And the game really is addictive. I can spend hours with the damn thing when I should be either writing, reading, taking care of emails, prepping an essay or tending to my basic personal hygiene. However, I can say that is all behind me now. I have disciplined myself (kinky!) and seta new order to the day. I intend to respond to all emails ASAP, get back to my former work ethic, and reprioritise Dr Kamikaze so I can continue with the important things in my life.

I'll just check out the Advanced Sodoku option first. Talk to you tomorrow.

Anniversary

2007-04-07T06:39:00.000Z

Yesterday, in all the excitement of creating this blog, I forgot to mention that April 6 is the anniversary of SWINGER's release.

That means, a year ago today I was flying back from London after doing a quick tour of BBC radio and chatting with a couple of other curious reporter types. Gosh! It's been a heady year since then. And a frustrating one too. The problem is: you write a book about swingers, you think you've got the best product you can create, you hand it over to your publisher (who then publishes it, hence the name publisher) and then you come across dozens of other stories that should have been in there.

NB - when I say "You come across..." I meant "You discover..." I wasn't trying to be vulgar.

How Do You Swing?

2007-04-06T09:03:00.000Z

I'm working on the follow-up title to SWINGERS right now, and want to make sure I've got the best possible range of stories in this title. Do you swing? Have you tried swinging? Have you got a story to tell?

SWINGERS is a collection of anecdotes and interviews from UK swingers. It shows the good and the bad sides of swinging, and tries to explain to those outside the swinging world what motivates the swinging community. The stories include all the raunchy elements that are usually associated with swinging, as well as personal insights into the lifestyle that have been offered by many of its genuine participants.

SWINGERS 2 (that's a working title, I don't really lack imagination) will build on the success of the previous title and continue with the sex positive theme. If you're a swinger, or if you've been a swinger, and if you think you have a story that deserves to go in the next edition, please get in touch so you can tell me your story.