HIS INTIMATE SCRIBBLES
Until eBooks came along, about the only sexy literature I got into was the stuff from Henry Miller and Anais Nin’s ‘black lace laboratory’ in Paris in the 1930s. Erotica, all right, rather than porn.
Now here I am with my own book ‘Tin-Pot Casanova’ which certainly counts as erotica though that wasn’t the intention when writing.
Nor did I realize that I had a book there at all until recently. (Though a friend at the time, ‘Harry’ in the narrative, saw some of it and suggested I should submit the whole wad to a publisher–and this is someone who, at the time, was angling for a post as a Clinical Psychologist.)
There was no particular intention of tackling the man/woman theme. It was just a bubbling over, as it were, of my middle-aged exuberance.
Typing it up from the battered hardcover exercise books that I favoured then, was to relive youthful glories and humiliations.
As for ‘Jocelyn Sykes’ in the book, I saw her the other day at a County Council demo against the closing down of branch libraries. Wow, she is as grey as a cat and more sallow than ever. But–adorable.
I didn’t speak.
Looking back to those days there were of course plenty of other bygone glories apart from those of the sack. Everyone loves the convenience of Word now, but then—what a thrill you got when you had just acquired a pulpy new black ribbon for your clattering Bluebird or Royal or Underwood typewriter. Those sheets of paper just went flashing through the roller.
It’s half a world away now, and more. The entries are correctly dated in the book, but it might as well have been the 1930s or 1880s.
‘Tin-Pot Casanova’ available from Amazon US:
and Amazon UK:
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