Everest and Other Mounts

When I came across this picture...welll.. .not actually "came" across it, if you know what I mean... I thought it would have made an excellent promotional image for the James Bond movie Octopussy... you know.... the one about the girl with the eight vaginas. Going by the smile on her face, perhaps she just likes having her nipples sucked...but this might be taking it a teensy bit too far I think.

Ian Fleming wrote all the Bond books and it always intrigued me how the human mind can come up with all the intricacies of the sheer number of all the books and stories that have been written. Sir Edmund Hilary replied when asked why he climbed Everest, "Because it was there..." and that makes me wonder...why do people write? ...Is that because it's NOT there?

I have been an avid reader for many years and learned an aweful lot from the process, but more and more I have been plagued with the urge to write. I got a similar urge about (ahem) years ago, and started on two books. I wrote about 12 chapters on one and just one chapter of the other and then lost interest. Then it struck me! I had always enjoyed books with a lot of sexual content, why not combine the two things that I like tgether...writing and sex....???? Loe and behold..there is a web site for people just like me...Literotica.!!!

And it seems I am not alone. The only problem is that I get a little disheartened. I have tried other forms of expression, like playing the guitar, painting, drawing, and while looking at/listening to other artist in those genres enspires me, it makes me realise my own meagre talents. Sure it makes me want to strive to be better, but that never seems to translate itself into "better" for me! And it's the same with writing. I enjoy reading the stories that others have written, and have always found written erotica...well... erotic, but when I read those other stories, they are written so much better than mine and I get disheartened. I have great ideas and and very active imagination and that 'sort of ' translates to the page, even to the point where four of the six stories I have written have made it to the top lists in their categories, but it just doesnt read as well as others that I have read.

I took a giant leap recently and wrote about a subject I know a lot about...me... and I have edited it and had it published for my children. It tells of my life and the things and people in it, the stories of my life... so that when I die, my stories wont be lost like my Father's stories were when he died. That's my own little Everest to conquer.... and I think I am still up on the mountain somewhere.