I Wanna Party!

By Lisabet Sarai

When I first sat down to write this post, I was stumped, because in fact I don't really have a bucket list – a list of things I definitely want to do before I die. Don't take that wrong. I have fantasies and desires, just like anyone else. However, if I expired tomorrow - though I certainly hope that I don't! - I really couldn't complain. Life has given me more fabulous experiences than I ever expected.

From the time I was a kid, reading tales of faraway places and ancient civilizations, I always dreamed about traveling the world. Now I live in one of the most exotic countries on the planet. Meanwhile, I've visited Angkor, Dubrovnik and Machu Pichu, seen the emerald rice terraces of Bali and the steaming hot springs of Rotorura, stood awed by Sainte Chapelle and Borobudur, wandered in Istanbul's Grand Bazaar and the ancient lanes of Kyoto. I've still got plenty of places on my travel wish list – Egypt and the pyramids (though not just now!), the mountains and monasteries of Bhutan, the glittering palaces of St. Petersburg and the ruins of Tikal, to cite just a few examples. Still, I know it's unrealistic to believe I'll ever fulfill all my travel dreams, especially since I'm not wealthy. I don't mind.

Then there's sex. Anyone who reads this blog probably already has far more information than they'd ever want about my sex life. Growing up chubby, bookish, shy and insecure, I would never have believed that I could be sexually attractive – or sexually free. History smiled on me. I came into my prime during the best possible period, after the Pill and before AIDS. As it turned out, I was actually something of a sex goddess for a couple of hectic years. Who would have thought it possible?

Are there erotic activities I haven't sampled, that I want to try? Of course. Although I consider myself bisexual, I've never had more than fleeting experiences with a woman lover. The schedule of deviant activities that my master and I have discussed but never attempted gets longer all the time. With me married and with half a world between us, we both know these are unlikely though entertaining fantasies. I doubt my sixty year old knees and back could handle the physical reality in any case. None of this is bucket list material, in my opinion. As I understand the concept, a bucket list chronicles things you theoretically could do, but haven't managed yet. It's unlikely I could bear a real-life caning, as much as the idea excites me.

Fame and material success? Well, I never wanted to be rich (except maybe when I was spinning travel fantasies for myself) and I still feel that way. I've experienced the thrill of seeing my name on the spine of multiple books (which in fact was not one of my youthful dreams). In my professional life, I've won a few awards and earned the respect of my peers. I'm not sure that I'd want more fame than I have, given the trade-offs involved – extra worry about staying on top and compromised privacy.

Love? I've had that for more than thirty years, even though marriage was not on my list of things to do in my life. Sometimes we just don't know how things will work out.

One dream I had as a kid that I haven't fulfilled is going into outer space. I suppose that might still come true, given recent developments. Do I want that enough to work toward making it a reality? Probably not.

So I really wasn't sure how to respond to our fortnightly theme. I searched my heart for some burning desire that was feasible but not yet fulfilled, something I would regret not doing if I knew my life would end tomorrow. And then it hit me.

I want to meet you guys. I wanna party with my fellow erotic authors.

Living in Asia is fabulous, but as an author I'm horribly isolated. I can't tell anyone I know about my literary identity. I can communicate with my peers only via electronic means. Meanwhile, I read about author conferences, gatherings, open mikes and other meat-space social events with deep envy.

I would have done almost anything to attend the EAA conference in Las Vegas a couple of years ago. The roster of participants included so many of you whom I've “known” for ages, but never met. Then, just this June, my UK colleagues Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse organized their Smut by the Sea event, a day for erotica authors and readers at Scarborough Beach (definitely on my travel to-do list, after reading Victoria's descriptions). To join them, along with K.D. Grace, Lily Harlem, Liz Coldwell, Justine Elyot, and all the other outrageous British authors I love – that would definitely have been a dream come true.

Indeed, I have been fortunate enough to meet a few of you, mostly briefly. Jean, I don't know if you even remember our having a drink with Rachel KB during that heady eight months I lived in New York City, before my cross-world relocation. Daddy X, Mommy X, DH and I shared a fabulous dinner a couple of years ago, during their perambulations in Asia. I was delighted to meet both Desiree and J.P. in LA during the 2011 Romance Times convention, at an amazing party organized by our publisher Total-E-Bound.

On the other hand, I've never had any face-to-face time with Garce. I think I've read everything he's ever written (at least, that he's shown to the world) and edited a good deal of it. We've exchanged long, soul-searching emails. He's helped me through rough times with my writing and my real world life, too. Separated as we are by space and our respective requirements for anonymity, a meeting seems improbable – but it's on my list.

Sacchi, we lived less than ten miles from one another for years, and never knew it! And Amanda – I've known you for at least a decade through ERWA. I've learned a great deal about you, and from you, since you've joined the Grip. What a pity you're in Canada and I'm here in the faraway Orient! I think we have a lot in common.

Giselle, you're a relatively new acquaintance, but I'm sure we'd have fun exchanging kinky stories. And Lily, I haven't known you long at all – but your attendance at my bucket list party is definitely required.

You're all geographically dispersed, of course. So perhaps what I want is three parties – or maybe four. One on the east coast of the U.S. One on the west coast. One in Canada (though given the size of that country, it might be easier for you to travel to the closest coast!) And finally, a bash in the UK. I'm dying to meet former Gripper Ashley Lister, who lives in Blackpool and whom I've know forever. And then there's Portia da Costa, the author whose work first inspired me to write Raw Silk.

Indeed, there are quite a few ex-members from Get a Grip whom I'd love to meet in the flesh. Kristina Wright, who bared her soul here for several years. The elusive and talented Charlotte Stein. The talented and unconventional Helen Madden, whom I miss terribly. Michelle Houston. Although she has crafted a bunch of covers for me since she left the Grip, we're strangers in the so-called real world. Devon Rhodes, who in her alternative incarnation has edited at least a dozen of my books.

Katherine Bradean, of course I want you there too. Our hour-long coffee meeting wasn't nearly long enough!

You're all invited. All the members of the ERWA blog members, also. I've met RG and M. Christian, but many of the rest of you are just much-admired names. And Bob Buckley (who hails from Massachusetts like me, but whom I've never met), Rose, Valentine, Dangerous Bill, Big Ed, D.L. King, all of my friends and colleagues from the Writers list. And of course Adrienne, founder of ERWA. I want to put faces with your names.

Clear your schedules. I want you all there.

We'll drink wine and talk about books, poetry, sex and life. We'll gossip about publishers and share story ideas. We'll dance – or at least, I will. In my opinion, it's not a party without dancing.

Of course, in reality, I know the parties I imagine probably aren't possible, for reasons of logistics. However, I'm going to commit to meeting as many of you as I can, individually if necessary, before I kick the bucket. And the next EAA conference – I'm going to work my butt off to get there.

I think that's something worth living for.

Party Girl

By Lisabet Sarai

I thought long and hard about what to say about Helen’s topic this week, “Other Talents”. My first notion was to introduce Salisha, my belly dancing alter-ego who existed long before Lisabet hit the scene. Then I realized that I’d already discussed my dancing in an earlier post. I could talk about the fact that I’m a genius computer programmer. I find software development incredibly exciting, but for most readers that would be about as sexy as income taxes. I can sing, draw, and cook. However, I don’t think I can compete with Helen or Donna George Storey. Then it hit me, my special talent that is simultaneously amusing and unusual.

I throw a mean party.

For me, organizing a party is a sublimely creative endeavor. Decorations, invitations, music, food and drink, games and activities, each aspect gives me a chance to express myself in a concrete way. I take entertainment extremely seriously.

Even as a shy teenager, the class nerd with the coke bottle glasses, I loved parties. In high school, a girlfriend and I threw a “computer matchmaking” party in her basement rec room. You must understand that this was a long time before any of us had ever seen a computer! We carefully selected an equal number of guys and girls and had each one fill out a questionnaire. Then we produced simulated punched cards encoding each person’s responses and used the traditional knitting needle approach to identify the couples whose responses were most similar, and hence were the most compatible. We didn’t spend much time on the decorations for that party, once we made sure that the couches were comfortable, since we planned to keep the lighting dim.

In college I lived in a dorm and didn’t have the opportunity to exercise my talent much, but in grad school I came into my own. I lived in a group house with five men. (There are lots of stories there, but I’ll save them for another post!) I’ll never forget the Hotel California Party we put together. It began at 9PM with pink champagne on ice and ran until dawn, when we served tequila sunrises. We weren’t able to install mirrors on the ceilings, but we didn’t need them.

At my first job out of graduate school, I was elected president of the company “entertainment committee”. I had a $20,000 annual budget to support events to amuse the thousand odd employees. Talk about heaven! I organized a Las Vegas night, a family barbecue with balloons and clowns and one-legged races, a boat trip to a local island. I got a bit spoiled!

Of course, all that entertainment had to be G-rated. Once I met my husband, our parties became spicier. I love costumes, the wilder the better. For years, our Halloween bashes were legendary. At one point, we were active in a group dedicated to open relationships, and threw an erotic costume party for our closest friends. I dressed as a mermaid, in a green satin “tail” I had created, bare-breasted except for loose fishnet and shell necklaces. My husband was a satyr, wearing horns and hairy pants that I’d fashioned from a brown plush bath rug. The other guests’ attire was equally provocative.


Our wedding was perhaps the most elaborate party we’ve ever organized. We gathered our seventy guests in a woodland clearing, at the edge of a small lake. We made banners emblazoned with personal symbols - a cat, a dragon, a yin/yang sign, the Hebrew characters for “life” - and hung them from the tree branches. I sewed the scarlet dress that I wore under my white sari. With some help from family and close friends, we prepared the food: Indonesian satay, lasagna, gazpacho, salads, homemade bread. For two months before the event, we had a Gantt chart up in my husband’s workshop, to help us coordinate our activities.

The night before the wedding, we threw a coed stag party for selected friends. There was a cake embellished with a naked couple fashioned from white chocolate. We gave out adult party favors. The women belly danced while the men watched. We played half-naked Twister. The air crackled with erotic possibilities, and in fact, late in the evening, I stumbled upon a threesome in one of the bedrooms, a close woman friend and a couple, each of whom had flown in from distant cities to grace our nuptials. I was a bit embarrassed. On the other hand, this was a sure sign that the party was a success!

Not all of our parties were rated X. When we moved from our apartment into our first house, we held a “House Cooling Party” with a tropical theme. Before we left for our two-year stint working in Bangkok, our friends joined us at a “Jet Set” party. I built a replica of an airport security gate out of silver-backed foam insulation boards and set it outside the front door. We rented chrome-plated champagne coolers and serving dishes for a luxury effect. I wore a hot-pink gown with a plunging neckline, and pearls.

At some point, we must have had a science-fiction-themed party, because I vividly remember concocting a drink that I called “Blue Venusian Brew”. It was a vodka-based punch made with fresh blueberries, served in a transparent fish bowl. It must have been quite a party, because I don’t remember anything else!

As we’ve gotten older, our parties have become less frequent. Our friends became more conservative, especially as they began to have kids. People left town, or become too busy. I did organize an eightieth birthday bash for my father, which we managed to keep secret despite the fact that about fifty people attended. We held the party as his favorite sea-side restaurant, in a glass-walled room with gorgeous views of the ocean. It was a huge success. Guess I haven’t lost my touch.

Just a few weeks ago, we moved into a new apartment. I loved this place the first time I looked at it. It has an enormous living room and a big kitchen with tons of counter space. The first thing I thought of was, “This will be a great place to entertain.”

I’m planning a housewarming for next month!