Thursday, November 12, 2015

A Tale of Two. . .







A Tale of Two Movies
If you’re anywhere close to my age, you remember the movies where the door swung closed oh-so-slowly while the music swelled mightily, carrying you away on the magic carpet of imagination. I sigh to remember the enjoyment of the moment!
A few years ago, I went to a movie with an historical context-specifically for that historical angle--and at one point, I sat watching in disbelief as the actual act unfolded before my eyes. It went on and on and on, and I thought, “If this doesn’t end soon, I’m out of here!” Not because I was embarrassed, you understand. I wear big girl panties. But it had absolutely nothing to do with the story I’d gone to see portrayed, and I felt cheated!

A Tale of Two Books
Here is a brief snippet from my first published book--the one a reviewer bashed because there were “no sex scenes”: (The male protagonist is blind as a result of WW I. The scene takes place in his study, not the bedroom. I’ve left out some extraneous conversation.)
     He closed his fingers around hers and drew her toward him. With little urging, she folded herself into his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. . .He searched for the pins that held her hair, removng them one by one until it flowed down her back. Then he pushed back the folds of her dressing gown and felt a tremor run through her body as he put his lips against her throat. . .
     "We're not going to think of losing, Lenore, only going forward to a better day for all of us. Now go make yourself decent, and we'll go to the office and get some work done." When she didn't move he added, "Unless, of course, you'd like to lock the door and. . ."
     "Allow your dishonorable intentions?"
     "Yes."
     She went to the door. "Five minutes," she murmured.
     He head the key turn in the lock.
All right, it doesn’t “sizzle”, and he doesn’t rush her to bed (until they’re married). But it’s an honest expression of love and physical desire, and the reader should be able to “get the picture”.
Now the second book--I bought it from an author with whom I’m acquainted slightly. It was a page-turner mystery and extremely well-written. Then BOOM! All the action came to a screeching halt for a very graphic bedroom scene. This happened two or three times. I paged through to return to the real story, and nothing--absolutely nothing--was lost. Except a sale-because I didn’t buy the next book. I felt cheated.

A Matter of Taste
There’s nothing new under the sun. “Dirty doings” have gone on since the beginning of time. The difference is, only in the last 50 years has it become acceptable--praise-worthy, even--to hang out those doings for all the world to see. It seems to me--and this is only my opinion, but it’s also my blog--that once nothing was private anymore, self-respect and respect for others just up and died. And those who believe in those tenets are too often swept away as having no value.
But our worth, I believe, is measured by the values we hold dear and refuse to relinquish and pass on to a new generation.





Excerpt from Where Is Papa's Shining Star?

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