Day of the Dead

Day of the Dead is what I’m calling an “erotic memoir.”

I dunno, I love it and I cringe to death at it. That seems about right to me. I wrote it under an easy penetrated pseudonym, but then put out the audiobook under my own name. I was ambivalent, but people have sexuality, and this book is about that.

As my analyst tells me, “Sex and Death, Ben, that’s all there is. And Death is only really a problem because it interrupts the sex.” I’ve learned not to argue with the old codger.

I’d been having a very intense BDSM affair, and I wrote this as it was slowly disassembling itself. The plot continued after the end of this book and was a catalyst for a rugged period of personal growth which involved a stark choice between embracing the reality of who I was and what this affair had really been, or sinking back into a reflecting pool of my own dreams. I opted for reality, and man did it suck.

Despite the various lovely people involved, I was mostly having an affair with the inside of my head, and my ideas of love, and my quest to find that technicolor girl again.

I recorded the audiobook at Voice Over Vermont.