I caved. I read it. I didn’t read it to count the number of times the same words were used. I didn’t read it to bitch about how much better I could have written it. I started reading with an open mind. I tweeted while I was reading the book, and after I finished it.
I am… reading 50 Shades… *hangs head in shame*
One can not mock what one has not read.
Sometimes… ok, all of the time… my facial expressions give me away. I shouldn’t read this book at work on the floor.
The juniors clothing sections should go ‘kinky’ after the movie. I fit in those sizes right now. Junior girls have the best slutty clothes.
Having it *did* start an interesting conversation at work last night…
“Oh, you’re reading that book too?” *grins*
Finished the book. Six lashes? Seriously? Try 100!
*now passing that book on to a coworker*
That book wasn’t written for experienced masochists, but I can understand the buzz for vanillas. I remember back then…
I also can’t say it was written well… but then again, my blog isn’t either.
They also cut out some of the most fun stuff with that hard limit list… 😉
But it did get me wet.
I am a masochist. I do not write fiction. And I am bored enough at work to tweet a link into the #50shades hashtag. 😉100 Lashes
I can only speak for myself. To me submission = confidence.
So many have mocked the writing, the research, the characters. I have more important things to do with my life.
What if all of this helps some women find what I have found?
I do remember back then before I knew anything at all about kink. It hasn’t even been three years for me.
I remember that first time.
I remember a tall, mysterious man with unreadable grey eyes… and so many rules… so strict…
I remember being swept up and away by all of the sensations, by the surprising joy I found in only being an object for his pleasure.
I remember that fucking.
I remember falling helplessly, hopelessly in love with him.
I remember the devastation when it ended.
It was only the beginning…