Truth or Dare Tuesday with M.Christian

I'm so excited about today's Truth or Dare because one of my favorite authors of erotica is here to play. It's just like an early Christmas gift for me really.

M.Christian is here today, answering some tricky questions and opening up with a few personal details that I'm sure you'll be fascinated by, I know I was. For those of you who haven't heard of him before, below is a quick bio about his amazing career. After that he'll tell us why he chose truth over dare today.

M.Christian is the author of more than 400 stories in such anthologies as Best American Erotica, Best Gay Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bisexual Erotica, Best Fetish Erotica, and in fact too many anthologies, magazines, and sites to name.  In addition to writing, he is a prolific and respected anthologist, having edited 25 anthologies to date including the Best S/M Erotica series; Pirate Booty; My Love For All That Is Bizarre: Sherlock Holmes Erotica; The Burning Pen; The Mammoth Book of Future Cops, and The Mammoth Book of Tales of the Road (with Maxim Jakubowksi); Confessions, Garden of Perverse, and Amazons (with Sage Vivant), and many more.  M.Christian's short fiction has been collected into many bestselling books in a wide variety of genres, including the Lambda Award finalist Dirty Words and other queer collections like Filthy Boys, BodyWork, and his best-of-his-best gay erotica book, Stroke the Fire.  He also has collections of non-fiction (Welcome to Weirdsville, Pornotopia, and How To Write And Sell Erotica); science fiction, fantasy and horror (Love Without Gun Control); and erotic science fiction including Rude Mechanicals, Technorotica, Better Than The Real Thing, and the acclaimed Bachelor Machine.  As a novelist, M.Christian has shown his monumental versatility with books such as the queer vamp novels Running Dry and The Very Bloody Marys; the erotic romance Brushes; the science fiction erotic novel Painted Doll; and the rather controversial gay horror/thrillers Fingers Breadth and Me2. 

 

I picked truth over dare as I always try to live honestly ... well, as honestly as I can ... that and I have this odd 'thing' about being embarrassed.  Sure, I can write, or say, pretty much anything but doing something makes me shiver (burrrrrr).

Hmm, doesn't like being embarrassed, *evil grin*...very tempting but I better behave. Now, lets see what the truth is according to M. Christian.

Who is a movie villain you find attractive?

So very, very, very funny you mention movie bad guys because I've always had a thing for cinematic villains – in fact I've been working on and off on a book about them, called They Only Wanted To Rule The World: A Celebration Of Cinematic Villainy.   

Anyway, this a toughie because there as just so many very cool, if not downright sexy, bad guys (and girls) out there it's really hard to pick just one.  Like with usual human beings I have a thing for intelligence, creativity and style – but with villains I'd actually like to have a bit ... just a bit, mind you ... of what they have but not necessarily have sex with them (I'm straight, after all).  At the top of the list has to be Hans Gruber from Die Hard: not only is Alan Rickman absolutely brilliant but Hans is elegant and, best of all, scary-smart.  Right next to him has to be Ernest Thesiger as Doctor Septimus Pretorius from The Bride Of Frankenstein: he's not just a genius but creepy with elegantly smooth confidence.  Last, but not least, would have to be the various incarnations of Dr. Mabuse (I even wrote my own Mabuse story).  Mabuse isn't really sexy, per se, but he's absolutely fascinating: indefinable, fantastic, otherworldly – his intellect puts him outside of the world, beyond human comprehension ... and wouldn't that be amazing to experience, if just for a little while? 

What flaw is enough to cause you to break off a relationship?  

I can't stand cruelty in any form: while I'm ridiculously easy-going around a lot of things – and love to experiment and open myself up to new experiences, viewpoints, etc. – I'm totally intolerant for intolerance (that's a joke, son).  As I suffer from depression, I'm extra-sensitive towards insensitivity: I look for partners that are supportive, enthusiastic, kind, and who truly care about me.  Luckily I've found more than my fair share – though have a few scars from bad calls on my part.  Still, I try and stay optimistic and am always looking for lovers, as well as friends, who will help me expand who I am.

Would you still love your significant other if he or she gained 100 pounds?  

Ah, a trick question: see, I have a 'thing' for BBW (big, beautiful women to all who don't know what that means) so weight isn't a problem for me – but even though I have a preference I never, ever look at people (at lovers) as bodies: I fall in lust and love first through a person's mind and personality ... and if they happen to be physically a button-pusher it's the cherry on top.  I adore people who are enthusiastic, dynamic, caring, intelligent, experimental, and who look at the world – and me – as a treasure to be explored.

What is the worst thing about being an adult?

Who says I'm an adult?  Sure, I might be little more than half a century old but I live by the mantra of child-like but not child-ish: I play video games, watch cartoons. Play with toys and adore discovering new and wonderful things: movies, foods, people, history, science, art ... I feel the world is an immense treasure that far too many people take it for granted or look out at it with half-closed eyes.  I may not be able to pull it off all the time, but I really do try to live as much as I can: to push myself as much as possible and learn as much as I can about everything and everyone.

What are you afraid of?

Even though I may sound fairly assured I have chronic depression: it's a battle to stay focused, optimistic, and to always remember that any negative emotions I may be feeling are not the truth but unfortunate biology.  But the major problem with depression isn't feeling like you're worthless but knowing, without a doubt, that you are: so my greatest fear would have to be that these negative feelings are not a chemical delusion but are what I am and how I'm seen (shudder).

But, like I said, I battle it constantly and try to take care of myself as best I can: I try to find joy and pleasure in my friends and family, ask for help when I need it, work to not let the brutal business side of being a writer get in the way of the ecstasy I feel when I tell a great story or finish writing a book.

I love those answers, Mr. Christian (why do I think of a tropical island and mutiny when I type that?). Thank you for being so honest with your replies. I'm sure a lot of us can relate to your fear, I know I can, having battled that demon myself. I'm also really impressed that the first male we've had on here loves big beautiful women. I'm doing a happy tushie dance around the living room at that answer alone.  I'd definitely love to see the villain book come to fruition and it has me wondering, what movie villain would you like to see included in M.Christian's book? My pick would be Dennis Hopper as Frank Booth in Blue Velvet, what's yours?  

Six Months later

It's six months today since Shane died. Like any relationship ours wasn't perfect. We had our moments of love, joy and pain. Nothings perfect, or at least I haven't experienced anything that is yet. Luckily I had moments that have come close, some of them with Shane, but not many. Ours certainly wasn't the stuff romance novels are made off. For the past six months I've wandered around, feeling lost. I realized that even though Shane had left me, I hadn't left him and I wasn't even sure how to do that.

Surprisingly, I woke up the other morning with one thought firmly planted in my mind...

ENOUGH.

I love you for loving me when I thought I was
wasn't worth it.
I hate you for leaving me when I wasn't prepared for you to go.
I thank you for supporting me and telling me I was good enough.
I despise you for abusing me, when I deserved better.
I cherish the loving moments, you made me
believe you cared.
I reject the mind games and emotional pain,
you were a Masterful puppeteer.
I smile remembering how I laughed at your crazy antics and sarcastic wit.
I cry remembering your angry tongue and the stinging venom on it's tip.
I've sorted the good, the bad and the ugly, each now assigned their appropriate place.
Once again I'm able to gaze into your life wearied and hardened face.

Six months of tirelessly expending energy when I had no energy to spare.
I leave your intricately designed labyrinth of word, deed, emotion and care.
My conclusion is simple, although it's taken me time to see.
So I say, as Sarah did with her Goblin King...you have no hold over me.

Bohemian Rhapsody

For those of you who don't know anything about me, the second quarter of 2012 sucked. It was a twelve week nightmare I don't ever want to repeat. I learnt a few good lessons though and here they are...in no particularly order.

• If you've got a shit load of bad Karma accrued, then death will not be a peaceful process for you.
• All your friends will tell you "if you need anything, all you have to do is ask" but 98% of them don't mean it.
• People you hardly know will show you amazing random acts of kindness that leave you weeping and with a renewed sense of knowing there are nice people in the world.
• You were right to believe that the only person you can truly count on is yourself.
• Even though all you want to do is sit in a corner and rock...you can't fit it into your schedule.
• The only way to move forward is to take one step at a time.

In accordance with the last lesson mentioned I'm now walking forward. I am, in a sense, rebooting my life.

I must say the reboot process is interesting. I started by moving house (way to go me, add more stress to an already shitful time.) I moved out of the house Shane and I shared and rented myself a one bedroom flat in the city. Mind you it's a city three hours from where I lived before. My best friend tells me the flat is not an old hovel with freeloading cockroaches that just refuse to move out, no matter how much spray I use or insect baits I scatter around. According to her, the little flat is a Bohemian artists retreat that will inspire my creativity. I guess it's all about perspective really.  Anyway, I have decided to embrace this Bohemian lifestyle that the universe  unceremoniously  thrusted me into...but what exactly does that mean?

According to the all knowing wikepedia it means this:

...the non-traditional lifestyles of marginalized and impoverished artists, writers, journalists, musicians, and actors in major European cities. Bohemians were associated with unorthodox or anti-establishment political or social viewpoints, which were often expressed through free love, frugality and — in some cases — voluntary poverty...

Surprisingly, without even trying I think I can put a tick next to most categories.

• Non-traditional lifestyle: I'm often referred to as eccentric, slightly left of centre and I'm involved in the BDSM scene...check.
• Marginalised: maybe, maybe not...more than likely not...un-check
• Impoverished writer: That is sooo covered. Unfortunately, at the moment I'm far from affluent as a result of being an author...that's a big check.
• Unorthodox, anti-establishment viewpoints: Well my family always referred to me as the rebel so I guess that would be a...check.
• Free love: Yes, I've never charged anyone for sex so (lol)...check.
• Frugality: Frugal by necessity rather than design, I would never live in voluntary poverty but I still meet the requirement...check.

Some of my behaviors and experiences lately may also reflect this new Bohemianism. I've gone drinking with the girls (Okay, I didn't just drink I got shit-faced drunk...damn you Mr Daniels.) I pole danced at the pub (refer to the shit-faced bit above). I've been called a Ho because I mentioned on facebook I was checking out the sexy builders across the road (apparently the now FB un-friend thought that was inappropriate since Shane was dead). Finally, I've totally embraced the cafe lifestyle, one of the benifits of city living. Oh, and I now walk everywhere instead of driving.

Yep, it appears I am definitely embracing the lifestyle, even if it's unintentionally. 

Something is wrong, were fixing it soon.

This past week I feel like my life has been one long error message. I hadn't been able to figure out what was wrong until I was trying to update my website and a message popped up on my screen. Something is wrong...we're fixing it soon. Just great! It was only then it occurred to me, maybe the problem is me. Well, metaphorically of course. It never ceases to amaze me that the universe can send you enlightening massages through the most benign circumstances. My decline started last Saturday on an escalator at Central Station in Sydney, around 10 a.m. in the morning. Contrary to what some of my friends think, I was NOT drunk...lol. I managed to see the day through until around 3 p.m, then I had to call an end to my planned weekend of fun and frivolity. I retreated arriving home about two hours later, very sore and hardly able to walk. Poor me. The week just got worse from then on.

I had so much work to do, including finishing my second book. Up until I'd gone to the city I'd been flying through the pages, everything falling into place, sticking to my schedule of at least one chapter a day. After the incident, everything stopped, just like the bloody escalator.

Sunday I decided to rest, I took painkillers and slept most of the day and night. Monday I knew I had to get back to work. I had a schedule, daily tasks to complete, a To Do list a mile long. I tried to write a few blogs...it didn't work. I didn't like them, the words wouldn't come out the way I thought they should. I opened my manuscript, then closed it. If I can't get a blog to make sense then how can I write a book. I decided I'd give myself another day off and went back to bed to read. Tuesday I managed to finish the guest blogs I'd been working on and emailed them away, I did a couple of tweets and updates on a couple of other sites. I opened the manuscript, then closed it. It all seemed overwhelming. I went back to reading the book I'd chosen the day before. The rest of the week continued the same way, turn on computer, check emails, tweet, post, open manuscript, close manuscript, go to bed and read. Outside the rain pelted down on the ground, the sky was grey, the clouds dark an ominous. It reflected my mood perfectly.

By Friday I was firmly entrenched in a dark lazy cocoon. I constantly ran through the tasks I knew I had to complete. Write two book reviews - at least I've finished reading the books, I'll do the reviews later. Do a final edit and submit the second novella in the Sydney Cougar series to my publisher- it's not good enough and I don't feel like being rejected in the mood I'm in. Work on completing Playing Jax, the second book in the Wylde Shore series - why bother, I don't even know if people will like the first one. I had no idea where the thoughts were coming from but I didn't resist them, I let them dwell. Big mistake. I swear if my name was Vincent van Gogh, I'd only have one ear by now. But I'm not Vincent and all I really had was a sore knee, a messed up bed, five completed novels scattering the floor, and a miserable attitude. I picked up the next book in the series I found myself reading and snuggled under the blankets. Who cares, not me.

On Saturday, after crying my way through the final chapters of Christine Feehan's Dark Melody, I realised the rain had stopped. So, with both ears still intact, I dragged myself out of bed, showered, dressed and took my lousy attitude to life out to do some grocery shopping. I will go back and apologise to the check out operator I growled at sometime within the next couple of days, after all it wasn't her fault she was in a good mood. Today I sat down at the computer determined to get back in touch with my old self. I sent the book review requests I had been putting off all week, did the social network stuff, returned emails and attempted to update the website. Error and inspiration message from the universe received. Thanks so much.

Something is wrong, we're fixing it soon. Well...no...I'm fixing it now actually. I'm fighting my way out of the fog and I'm on my way to turning my sappy, depressed attitude into a blessing. I've decided to channel my misery into my novels villain. She is a woman who likes to make people miserable because her own life is not turning out the way she wanted it too. Not that I'm like that, but I figure I can turn my current wallowing, oh poor me, life sucks week, into something worthwhile.