The Final Buzzer

I don’t know how I kept this tour going. Oh yes I do — barely.

My life is Diana Ross upside down. After being grounded nuclear family-style for the past several years, all my stuff has been sold, given away or is in storage, and I am utterly mobile. I’m working on my small press, a documentary that will screen in a few months, several works of fiction, still contributing nonfiction to a couple of publications, and getting ready to travel half of Florida promoting my book — and it’s a big fucking state. I need a low-maintenance lifestyle right now and a 4-bedroom house in the country wasn’t providing that.

If it weren’t for the extremely-fucking-brilliant writers who make up Girls Who Score, I would not have set up a blog tour. But exactly because I was blessed enough, not only to have some of the most prolific, intelligent, well-known, admired, and respected erotica authors in the world, but all the authors that I personally admire in a geeky, fan-girlish way, contribute a story, I would have been remiss if I hadn’t. Each of the writers in this book has made me come…very far in my admiration for them. I would like to thank them for making my first foray into the hallowed halls of editordomshipness a very easy process. You will always be my starting lineup. Continue reading

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Sommer Marsden Takes a Seat

Writing a story about sports is pretty hard for a girl like me. I’m not what I’d consider sporty. I’m not what anyone would consider sporty.  Let’s see. I have…crashed my bike into a telephone pole, crashed my bike into a mailbox (same street, different bike), fallen off a skateboard and sprained my knee (I was sitting on the skateboard) and I once threw myself down the steps—multiple times, actually— to avoid gym class. No. You did not read that wrong.

P.S. I failed in my mission to avoid my nemesis and was totally fine and had to take gym class anyway.

The fastest I ever ran in softball (which I only participated in because my sister did and my dad was coach) was because I had a rock in my shoe and wanted to get back to the bench and take it out. My Jiu Jitsu instructor once yelled “This isn’t ballet class! Stop pointing your toe!” However, in my defense, I still remember out entire routine (is it called a routine?) that can be performed perfectly to “Eye of the Tiger.”  The nasty painful athletic cherry on top of my non-sports career…my mother almost came to blows with a snarky gymnastics teacher who called me “Melissa Mule” (and no, my name is not Melissa. She was being a bitch.)

There was one phys ed teacher—one magical unicorn of a teacher— in high school who I adored. She loved me because I was ‘willing to try’ and that was only—to be honest—because she was one of my favorite teachers in school. I mean, there are only so many times you can get stuck upside down on the uneven bars and have to get a push to keep going and keep your dignity. She wanted me to play basketball (on a team!) because I was tall and had an insane three point shot—a fact we all found out by accident. I was more surprised than anyone. But I am the most noncompetitive person you’ll ever meet (in sports, that is). I always had the insane urge to just hand the ball to whoever was coming toward me.

So…as you can see, athletics…not my forte. Not even a little.

When GIRLS WHO SCORE came along I had to ask myself what could really get me going? What would give me the right amount of inspiration to perform?  And you know there’s not a clean thought in my head, so…

 

From “Chairs” by Sommer Marsden: Continue reading