Going Too Far is the story of a girl called Meg, who works in her parent’s diner, but likes to break the rules. With bright blue hair, she is quite the extrovert. When she and her boyfriend, Eric, and two friends get caught on an out of bounds railway bridge, Meg is ordered to spend her…
For about the zillionth time, I just read “The vagina is only 3 to 4 inches long!” It was included in an answer about penis size, of course. Because it’s always about penis size.
Don’t worry, men! Your penis isn’t too small. A woman’s vagina is only 3 to 4 inches long! You’re too big for us! We can just barely handle that monster in your pants! Bring the smelling salts in case we faint from the shock!
Yeah. It’s a lie. A big, fat, turgid lie.
Yes, the vagina is 3 to 4 inches long. When unaroused. It can double in length during arousal. MUCH LIKE A PENIS! Whaddya know! We have physical reactions to arousal just like men do! We get big and plump and soft and lubricated. It’s nice.
I don’t want to see this lie anymore. I don’t want to see ANYONE comparing aroused penis size to unaroused vagina size. Unless you’re discussing rape. Are you discussing rape? If not, then the aroused vagina is about 5 to 8 inches long. Got it?
It is not okay to make women feel like there’s something wrong with their bodies to make men feel better about theirs. If your penis is small, find another way to deal.
My next Jackson series starts this summer! The first story will be a novella called “Fanning the Flames” about Lauren Foster, a 43-year-old librarian trying to get back into dating. I’m just finishing this up now, and I’m so enjoying hanging out with these chicks. Here’s a little sneak peek of Lauren and her girlfriend Sophie, who’s trying to talk Lauren into a younger man:
Lauren was losing her nervous edge and starting to get into it. “Oh, he’s pretty,” she said, poking Sophie’s shoulder to draw her attention. “That guy by the juke box.”
Sophie’s eyes slid across the room. “He’s pretty, all right. So pretty he’s terrible in bed.”
“You’ve slept with him?”
“No, I can just tell.”
Sophie nodded in the face of Lauren’s incredulity. “Look at that smile. Those dimples. See how cute he thinks he looks. He was the cutest guy in his high school, and he never had to do anything to get laid except show up and wait. I promise you he knows nothing about cunnilingus.”
Shocked, Lauren looked him up and down. The pretty boy noticed and shot her a wink. Oh, God, Sophie was right.
Sophie nodded sagely. “What you need is someone who’s just coming into his prime. Maybe he was skinny and nerdy in high school, but now he’s twenty-five and really into river rafting and his muscles have filled out. He’s spent a lot of time—“
“No.” Lauren cut her off. “Twenty-five? I can’t do that, Sophie. No way. Has a twenty-five-year-old even seen stretch marks? Or breasts that have actually fulfilled their function? No, this is not happening.”
“They’re breasts, Lauren! Men like them. All of them. Keep the lights low and let him play with them. Instant happiness.”
Lauren forgot her horror and laughed so hard she snorted. “I can’t believe the words that come out of that cute little face.”
“This little face buys me a lot of leeway. Nobody suspects a thing.”…
All right. Let’s be very, very clear about something. Huckabee said: “…making them believe that they are helpless without Uncle Sugar coming in and providing for them a prescription each month for birth control because they cannot control their libido or their reproductive system without the help of the government, then so be it…” (emphasis mine)
That was his idea. His choice of words. He didn’t say Democrats think women want birth control because women don’t want children. Or because women can’t earn money. Or because men can’t control their libidos. He choose those words because he thinks birth control is for women who can’t control their libidos. He pinned that belief to Democrats because HE believes it.
(Is that what conservative men like to brag about? That their wives don’t need birth control because they can control their libidos? That their wives are just not that into them? All right, gentlemen. Carry on with your bragging. Pretty impressive.)
Does he know that 98% of American women (and therefore men) will use birth control in their lives? I guess it’s all just one big secret orgy you’re never invited to, huh? Is that what you’re so prickly about?
But for me the most important takeaway from his remarks is that he thinks birth control isn’t about men’s libidos. Because men aren’t responsible for making babies. Of course not. Ladies, if you’re going to spread your legs, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences. You’re the gatekeepers. Men are only following their nature. Your nature is to control yourselves. And to try to control men.
God, that’s so infuriating.
Still… where the fuck is all the free birth control the government is handing out? Uncle Sugar, where’s my free birth control? I thought my birth control coverage was coming out of my health insurance that I -with my ravenous vagina in one hand and dirty libido clutched in the other- am paying for with my hard work. Silly me.
But to Mike Huckabee and all the other conservatives out there… If you are truly pro-life, then I expect you to start supporting this mythical free birth control any day now. How can a true, honest believer take any other stance? Unless, of course, it’s about controlling women’s bodies and the country’s religion and not really about a higher calling at all. Access To Free Birth Control Causes Abortion Rate To Drop Dramatically: Study
This is why women are pissed. Because we are smart enough to know that Huckabee isn’t saying what Democrats believe. He’s saying what he believes. He’s saying what they all believe. And I’m saying fuck you.
Your Selfie Is Wrong. Everyone Read My Thoughts About Selfies.
There’s been a lot of talk about selfies in the past few months. My initial reaction to talk of selfies is always: of course they’re narcissistic. I post too many of them. I feel bad. I shouldn’t want to draw attention. Yes, we want women to feel confident and satisfied with themselves, but we don’t want them proud. Check yourself, lady.
But this automatic eye-roll about selfies… What exactly are we doing here? What are we doing on Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr and Pinterest? We want to be seen. Look at me. Look at what I’m doing. Look what I had for lunch. Look who I’m with. Look what I’m working on. Look at how I’m feeling today. Look at what I’m interested in. Look at where I am. Look at the people I love. Look at what’s pissing me off. Look who I’m talking to. Look at me. See me.
And all of that without photos.
But how is any of that different from a picture?
I think it’s easy to have a response to a selfie. Everyone knows you shouldn’t hang framed pictures of yourself on your wall. You have to make sure there are others in the photo in order for it to be acceptable. ;-) But I can’t really say that a selfie is any more narcissistic or self-involved than most other posts. Why are we here on social networking if not to be seen and acknowledged?
But not via selfies. Because that’s wrong.
(p.s.: I like seeing pics of my friends, so post away, chicks.)
Women’s ski jumping debuts at the Olympics this year!!!
This is a big deal. Men’s ski jumping has been an Olympic sport since the inaugural games in 1924. They’ve put women off for decades for bullshit reasons piled on top of elephant shit reasons. Female skiers have fought hard for this for so many years.
In 2005, the president of the International Ski Federation, Gian Franco Kasper, said ski jumping “seems not to be appropriate for ladies from a medical point of view.” In 2005.He thought it was bad for women and not men. Medically. In 2005.
Someone please kick that guy in the nuts for me. His balls are obviously not affected by high velocity impact. So kick him real fucking hard. A few times. He’s a man, so he’s super tough.
Another new year approaches! Somebody slow them down already?
I always find myself making at least one resolution even though I can’t say I believe in them. Getting in better shape? Yes, yes, always. But this year I’m also resolving to turn my guest room into an actual, honest-to-goodness office. It’s really stupid to have a room for others to use once a year and no dedicated room for me and my work. It’s going to be a great office. A window with a beautiful view and I’ll have my own attached bathroom! And a treadmill. See resolution #1.
But in thinking about 2013, my greatest gift to myself had nothing to do with my resolutions. It had to do with throwing in the towel. I gave up writing. For a while. I gave up and I loved it.
As I wrapped up my last book of 2012, I found myself anticipating a new contract with dread (a terrible thing to admit to other writers, maybe), so I told my agent that any new contract would need to accommodate time off. Real time off. Not a few weeks, but a few months. Writers and industry people kept telling me it was such a brave decision to make, to actually say “I can’t do everything all the time,” but it didn’t feel brave. It wasn’t scary. The only torture I went through was guilt. Guilt that my career was going well and people were counting on me and all I wanted to do was NOT WRITE.
But I brushed the guilt aside and I did it. I took four whole months off. The first month I had to do some editing and proofing, but after that, I did nothing. I didn’t brainstorm. I didn’t plot. I didn’t work on stories. I took my first true vacation in many years. No writing, no editing, nothing but reading and cocktails and Hawaii. Fellow writers, you have no idea how beautiful it was. It was glorious. I melted into it. I did not write.
When I told people I was on sabbatical, the response I heard most often, the response I got almost every time was, “Sure, take time off, but be sure to WRITE EVERY DAY.” Write. Every. Day. Don’t drop the ball. Don’t let the magic go. Exercise your mind, even if it’s just writing in a journal or banging out a blog post. Keep your writing strong. Keep the faith. You are a writer.
We hear this all the time. At workshops, on Twitter, on Facebook, on lists of writing tips. Write every single day no matter what. That’s what Real Writers do.
Sorry, but that wasn’t the point of a break. The point was to not write. To give my creativity a rest. To let that well refill. I needed time.
Guess what? It worked. I didn’t write a damn thing except grocery lists and a few dirty tweets. I thought I might work on a little side project for fun. I didn’t. I thought I’d brainstorm a new series. Nope. I didn’t work on my stories at all. I didn’t miss them. And I was just fine.
When it was time to write again, I wrote. And this book was easier than anything I’ve written in the past three years. It didn’t hurt to pull it out of my brain. Taking time off was exactly what I needed. I didn’t write, I didn’t want to write, and I am still a writer.
So this year, if you need a break, take it and embrace what that means for you. Do it for yourself. (Or for your work, if that makes you feel better.) And remember that when anyone reads to you from the writing bible, even when it’s the holy artist cry of “Write every day!” their advice isn’t about you, it’s about them. It’s about what they need. There is no sacred truth in writing. And there is definitely not a conveniently round number of truths that can be packaged into a list to make you into a Real Writer.
Do what feels right to you. Or do what never feels right but always works. Just don’t try to live someone else’s truth.