The Smut Marathon and My Experiences

The Smut Marathon and My Experiences

It happened, I made it through round 1 of the Smut Marathon, but round 2 took me out. I’m definitely sad over it, but proud of so much of the other writers that I got to read, and to see how they are doing makes me happy. So it’s a wash. That being said, I will be back in 2020 to do the marathon again.

Round 1 was tough, the assignment was to write a story about a first encounter. I was limited to 30 to 50 words. When I read the word limit I almost fainted from how few words that really is. I think I have about 40, maybe 50 drafts of that short paragraph written and saved. I stand by what I wrote, and I’m still very proud of my entry.

And now, that first entry.


Glance Encounter

The lid of my coffee cup disappeared, upon the horizon arose your eyes, catching mine. The green color, drew me in. I saw you blush, your cheeks redden; I felt a sudden rush of anticipation. I needed to know the thoughts behind the twinkle in your inviting smile.


When I loaded the word file into the email, read to make sure it was the one I wanted, and hit send, I think I literally sat there for 30 minutes making sure it was the one I intended to send. Even reading it now, almost 40 days after I wrote it, I still enjoy reading it. Of course I would like to have gotten more votes, but we can’t always have what we want.

For round 2, I was still excited. I know that I can always find a way to appeal to people. I’m still trying to write the next great American erotic novel, so… I was limited in round 2 to a huge 100 to 125 words. I sneeze that many words. When Marie said I had to continue someone else’s story, I got even more worried.

I read all 102 entries again, and then again, looking for the one that was calling me, and would allow me to take what I felt was a pretty unique view of it. I searched through the entire list of entries looking for something good, but something that wouldn’t have every third entry using it.


Drawing Room – by Andra Ashe

The robe slides from her shoulders, a slow reveal of a ripe, lived-in body. Rounded, soft. A body she’s sharing with me. With us. Like Goya’s ‘Naked Maja’, she reclines on plump cushions. Smiling. Watching. I smile back and lift my charcoal to the paper on my easel.


As a child I wanted to be an artist, and reading about the charcoal, the easel, this really called to me. I spent days coming up with plots on what I wanted to say, how I wanted to continue this. I work-shopped this with my biggest fan (thank you babe – quick plug) and it was a pretty easy decision to see the model come to life from the paper. I’ve been playing a lot with demons, angels, etc, so this just seemed right to us.


The Blended Composition

The charcoal outlines her body, a hollow silhouette on the paper. The powder slips under my fingertips, fading the sharpness of the lines forming her face. Her eyelashes tickle me. Our eyes meet, from woman to paper. Her look softens; even warms in shades of gray. Her cheeks feel soft as her cheekbones blur onto the paper. My fingertip runs down her jawline, the charcoal adds more shading, fingers becoming darker as the pigment rubs off of her skin. The back of my finger runs up her neckline, a lover coming to life on paper. The full lips on paper drawing from the full lips in life, both slightly parted, her soul now speaks.


I scrutinized what I wrote. I waited patiently for the comments to open up on the Friday when the voting was done. I agonized as I read through comments and found all of the comments related to my story. All of them were positive with the exception of a couple of neutral comments. I felt like I was on top of the world

I, once again, only got a couple of votes. I read through the judges comments and votes, and didn’t see my entry there with any judge votes, and hung my head. I still take great pride in what I’m doing, and I’m going to continue to enjoy the rest of the marathon as a spectator. I’m going to go through all of the winners from each round, and look for places where I can improve my writing. I know I can do better, I also know I can do worse.

I love this, it is triggering my competitive side for some art. Instead of my daily grind (as an IT Security person, minoring in programming) and allowing me to put free flow thoughts onto a screen, and even just knowing that people are reading it, makes me incredibly happy.

Thank You so much Marie Rebelle for putting on the Smut Marathon and allowing even this amateur to enter, and attempt to win. See you for voting round 3.

Smut Marathon
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