Splattercat is a media whore. By day, a highly paid media relations consultant, advising a roster of high-profile individual and corporate clients and carefully sculpting their public profiles in exchange for fat, monthly retainers. By night, an unrepentant reprobate, caught up in a relentless pursuit of cheap and easy thrills to numb the restless longing in a tortured soul.
I don't tell anyone I write these stories because I lead a very public life. I publish, and get paid for, all my other writing under my real name. My bio isn't bullshit. My stuff here is for me. If other people like it, that's great, but this is my own small way of staking out a bit of turf that's mine and mine alone.
So, when you're writing, do you start a story and see it through to the end or do you have multiple pieces under construction at any one time? For the most part, I try to finish the thing I'm on before i start something, but sometimes I break that rule ... What about you? Which, and why?
I'm gonna stick with my computer. It's easier to write at the speed of thought in the first draft and faster on the rewrites when I go in to tighten things up.
IMHO, a reader can say whatever she feels like saying. I don't write for readers. I write for me. I hope people like it, but really, it's all about me.
As a writer, I'm not too hung up on scores or comments. I'm more interested in the number of reads and the number of follows. To me, those are the metrics that matter. That said, I do try to leave comments when I score a story, and I only score stories that I like. If I can't say something nice, I'd prefer not to say anything at all ...
In a car parked in a Safeway parking lot on Castro St. in San Francisco. We were in the back seat going at it, oblivious to the world, when the hot glare of a cop's flashlight shone in on us. He checked our IDs and said he thought we were shooting drugs, then told us to go get a room.
Advice from the master. On paper, it seems easy enough, but of course, it ain't.Number Five is particularly insightful, IMHO.
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.3.Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.5. Start as close to the end as possible.6. Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them-in order that the reader may see what they are made of.7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
Newbie here, so please forgive me if this topic has been addressed in another post, but I'm wondering what y'all think about POV? It seems to me that the a lot of stories I've read here are in the first person, and I've written my share of those, too. But as a writer, I find the third person POV more fun to write, and my readers - all four of 'em - seem to like it better, too, if the number of reads each story receives means anything. So, when you sit diwn to write, do you make a conscious decision about POV, or does the story just sorta flow and come out however it comes out?
It depends - is the guy married?
Oh yeah ...
For two days after the wife had walked in on Tanya pulling her strap-on out of my ass and me with my jizz all over my face, it had been absolute silence in our house – a cold front of epic proportion. I buried myself in my work, even though it was kind of slow for me right now, and tried not to think about the Day of Reckoning that was surely coming. I didn’t think she’d divorce me, after...
Added 24 Jan 2014 | Category Anal
| Votes 17 | Avg Score 4.88
| Views 20,419
| 7 Comments
When the wife and I went out of town, we hired Tanya, the college girl from down the street who babysat our kids occasionally, to housesit and take care of our dog. Tanya was twenty, maybe twenty-one, and built, as they say, like a brick shithouse. She had long dirty, brown hair and firm full tits, with curves that made it very hard to look her in the eye for long. She was a wet dream,...
Added 17 Jan 2014 | Category Anal
| Votes 15 | Avg Score 4.87
| Views 33,047
| 8 Comments
As she spoke, something about how my scholarship and my place on the team couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this perverted old bitch’s filthy instructions flitted through my mind, but it was gone before it took root. My brain was crippled with lust and I continued to pump my cock, my eyes glued to her gorgeous pussy. As I watched, she slowly pulled a glistening finger from inside of...
Added 08 Jan 2014 | Category Masturbation
| Votes 5 | Avg Score 4.8
| Views 9,593
| 5 Comments
During my second year at the university, I never set foot in the library, not even once, a record I was kinda proud of, truth be told. I was too busy with swim practice and trying to pork as many of the betties on the campus as I possibly could to worry about grades, ferchrissake – and I did an admirable job with the betties, too, believe you me. I left a trail of satisfied women a mile long,...
Added 04 Jan 2014 | Category Masturbation
| Votes 3 | Avg Score 4.33
| Views 8,244
I got shit for brains. – Nervous Eaters, 1986 Josh was a mistake. Victoria knew it when she saw him walk in, swaggering across the floor toward the bar like he owned the place, looking around to see if anybody was watching his entrance. What an asshat. But Christ on a crutch, he was fine: lithe and muscular, a beautiful man in black jeans and a black leather jacket with soft,...
Added 03 Jan 2014 | Category BDSM
| Votes 4 | Avg Score 4.75
| Views 7,774
| 4 Comments
“You’re only 29, gotta lot to learn. But when your Mommy dies, she will not return.” The Sex Pistols, 1977 On the day Daniel Congress buried his mother, it rained like hell. Absolute buckets. The morning had broken bright and clear, but by early afternoon the sky was ashen and the wind had picked up. As the funeral cortege turned into the Colma cemetery the rain began to...
Added 02 Jan 2014 | Category Mature
| Votes 22 | Avg Score 4.8
| Views 27,773
| 6 Comments
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