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Upcoming Event
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
2024-06-27
One day when the world is perfect and men and women communicate beautifully with one another, I shall grow my hair to my toes and let my underarm hair grow even longer in order that it can be braided into three tiny ponytails under each arm. What a big fat lie!
The world will never be perfect and men and women will never truly communicate with one another in a fashion that is advantageous to both partners, so goes the belief of many psychologists and sociologists who study the inter-relationships between male and females. White lies cover each of us like a cloak of purity that is splashed with the truth in glaring red. We are pre-programmed to lie our faces off if we believe that the lie will benefit the person hearing it. Recently, on a morning talk show, I listened to one psychologist admit that women do not want to be told the truth by their husband or partner if the question being asked is, "Do I look fat in this dress?" Nope. Women want to be told that they look simply phucking gorgeous even if they do look somewhat rotund, or lumpy. And men, too, want to be uplifted as well and if they are told by their partner that the sex was freaking fantastic, even if the man instinctively senses that she didn't enjoy herself, he still prefers to be told a lie by her, rather than deal with the truth that his bed-skills might need a little polishing.
Dale Carnegie and his enormously successful book from the late 30s called 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' is from the same school of thought, that lies camouflaged as flattery are better than admitting your innermost thoughts. In other words, lie your bloody face off to get what you want, to avoid that argument and most importantly to avoid hurting someone's feelings. This philosophy I can get behind bcus sometimes it's just not worth hurting someone's feelings when you're forced to deal with the fall-out, such as the silent treatment or no sex at all.
But when is it vitally important to tell the truth?
We seek both truth and beauty in our incredibly flawed world and lies are part of the delicate fabric. When should you strip away the veneer and let the lies fall by the wayside and wallow in truth? Why the answer is easy of course. Tell the truth to yourself. If you're a wanker and you treat people like shit, then why lie to yourself that you're going to have a crowd of adoring fans at your funeral when you finally kick the bucket? You'll probably be long forgotten or criticized for being an asshole. Because rest assured, after you're dead the truth will come out about your personality, and whether or not you made people feel better about themselves, after they left your company, or if you tore them to shreds while they endured your company. Forget about this nonsense of not wanting to speak ill of the dead. The dead cannot defend themselves and even though people know this they sometimes still need to vent their feelings - their brutal truth.
Jonathan Swift, an Anglo-Irish essayist, poet, and author had summed it up best. He said that a lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes. Best quote ever on the subject of telling the truth. I hate liars. I hate it when men are pathological liars and begin a relationship on the basis of deception. These kinds of lies catch up with them and are revealed through the pain and hurt they cause you. If that is the kind of world that some people want to cultivate, then I say to you go ahead, you lying bastard! If you want, you can lay down on a bed of lies but you'll still have to eventually get up and search for the truth like the rest of us. After all, you can only sleep so much or go through life with your head up your ass for so long, because in the end, sometimes you need to be told that "Yes, my darling, I wish I could tell you but it's not true, you do look a tad frumpy and fat in that dress. Let us go and buy you a new one!"
Flattery often masquerades as as lie, while the lie is rarely called out as a lie when spoken as flattery.
The world will never be perfect and men and women will never truly communicate with one another in a fashion that is advantageous to both partners, so goes the belief of many psychologists and sociologists who study the inter-relationships between male and females. White lies cover each of us like a cloak of purity that is splashed with the truth in glaring red. We are pre-programmed to lie our faces off if we believe that the lie will benefit the person hearing it. Recently, on a morning talk show, I listened to one psychologist admit that women do not want to be told the truth by their husband or partner if the question being asked is, "Do I look fat in this dress?" Nope. Women want to be told that they look simply phucking gorgeous even if they do look somewhat rotund, or lumpy. And men, too, want to be uplifted as well and if they are told by their partner that the sex was freaking fantastic, even if the man instinctively senses that she didn't enjoy herself, he still prefers to be told a lie by her, rather than deal with the truth that his bed-skills might need a little polishing.
Dale Carnegie and his enormously successful book from the late 30s called 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' is from the same school of thought, that lies camouflaged as flattery are better than admitting your innermost thoughts. In other words, lie your bloody face off to get what you want, to avoid that argument and most importantly to avoid hurting someone's feelings. This philosophy I can get behind bcus sometimes it's just not worth hurting someone's feelings when you're forced to deal with the fall-out, such as the silent treatment or no sex at all.
But when is it vitally important to tell the truth?
We seek both truth and beauty in our incredibly flawed world and lies are part of the delicate fabric. When should you strip away the veneer and let the lies fall by the wayside and wallow in truth? Why the answer is easy of course. Tell the truth to yourself. If you're a wanker and you treat people like shit, then why lie to yourself that you're going to have a crowd of adoring fans at your funeral when you finally kick the bucket? You'll probably be long forgotten or criticized for being an asshole. Because rest assured, after you're dead the truth will come out about your personality, and whether or not you made people feel better about themselves, after they left your company, or if you tore them to shreds while they endured your company. Forget about this nonsense of not wanting to speak ill of the dead. The dead cannot defend themselves and even though people know this they sometimes still need to vent their feelings - their brutal truth.
Jonathan Swift, an Anglo-Irish essayist, poet, and author had summed it up best. He said that a lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes. Best quote ever on the subject of telling the truth. I hate liars. I hate it when men are pathological liars and begin a relationship on the basis of deception. These kinds of lies catch up with them and are revealed through the pain and hurt they cause you. If that is the kind of world that some people want to cultivate, then I say to you go ahead, you lying bastard! If you want, you can lay down on a bed of lies but you'll still have to eventually get up and search for the truth like the rest of us. After all, you can only sleep so much or go through life with your head up your ass for so long, because in the end, sometimes you need to be told that "Yes, my darling, I wish I could tell you but it's not true, you do look a tad frumpy and fat in that dress. Let us go and buy you a new one!"
Flattery often masquerades as as lie, while the lie is rarely called out as a lie when spoken as flattery.
2024-06-25
In the dark, under my refrigerator, there are creepy crawly things that scamper out from underneath the dust-encrusted floor space. If, in the night, I turn on the light unexpectedly, sometimes I'll see that the tiniest of little critters will panic and dash for cover. And back in the days when I had two kitties, and also now on the occasions when I babysit kitties, very often I'll find the kitty perched in front of the fridge in the dark waiting for these bugs to venture out. Cats love to capture and eat these kinds of bugs. Lovely, I know...well, not really. Kitties seem very pleased with themselves, as they lick their lips.
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2024-06-24
He is the dream in the meteor’s tail,
painting the night I admired
when he slept,
closely to my breast.
He is the feeling of fundamental
and light,
because I have the need of him.
I have the pain for him.
In the muscle of thought erotica,
I want it all from him
in simple terms,
he should not stop to ponder.
So long as his tongue moves,
inside my body.
I am born again,
within his dream.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
painting the night I admired
when he slept,
closely to my breast.
He is the feeling of fundamental
and light,
because I have the need of him.
I have the pain for him.
In the muscle of thought erotica,
I want it all from him
in simple terms,
he should not stop to ponder.
So long as his tongue moves,
inside my body.
I am born again,
within his dream.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2024-06-20
"You should be ashamed of yourself," said the curt, dismissive woman, in response to a review posted about one of my novels on a website called The Erotic Woman. Clearly, this woman was miffed w/ my erotic writings, so much so that she felt compelled to wag her disapproving finger at me, thru email, which meant that after she read the review, she navigated to my author site in order to be able to blast out a piece of her mind. "Don't hold back! Tell me what you really think." 😅 I thanked her for taking the time to contact me. Seriously.
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2024-06-18
That's what he said to me, a dear friend I've known for close to 30 years that he's unaware of his behaviour most of the times, such as neglecting to inquire about my health or that of my family's health.
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2024-06-17
I realize my love for you,
only after we've ended
the power of flesh
between us,
connected.
We came.
We flew.
The past of our lives unfolded,
into breaking cracks
in the darkened clouds.
We felt the way,
on the hour
in our kisses
longingly,
transcendent.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
only after we've ended
the power of flesh
between us,
connected.
We came.
We flew.
The past of our lives unfolded,
into breaking cracks
in the darkened clouds.
We felt the way,
on the hour
in our kisses
longingly,
transcendent.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2024-06-13
In a prior post, I had referred to a long lost but beloved subscription to a magazine I adored receiving in the mail, Scientific American Mind, and it is this warm and fuzzy feeling for this wonderfully informative rag (no longer in print😰) that brings me to this morning's subject matter: the intuitive mind.
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2024-06-11
Jeepers... talk about a tongue twister. Say that ten times fast.
Ah, the tongue, that warm, fleshy extension which protrudes from within our mouths, to think of its many uses. In the past, on rare occasions mind you, I've begun my work day by delivering a tongue-lashing on someone's unacceptable behaviour. I don't particularly care to receive tongue-lashings, myself, though sometimes I whole-heartedly deserve them. When I get one, it means someone feels the need to tear a strip off me and they do so with their tongue, hurling verbal accusations of wrong doing at great speeds through mobile lines, reverberating in my ears, attempting to illicit the right response. Dare you say that I did something wrong? Hold that tongue, good Sir, and choose thy words with care!
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Ah, the tongue, that warm, fleshy extension which protrudes from within our mouths, to think of its many uses. In the past, on rare occasions mind you, I've begun my work day by delivering a tongue-lashing on someone's unacceptable behaviour. I don't particularly care to receive tongue-lashings, myself, though sometimes I whole-heartedly deserve them. When I get one, it means someone feels the need to tear a strip off me and they do so with their tongue, hurling verbal accusations of wrong doing at great speeds through mobile lines, reverberating in my ears, attempting to illicit the right response. Dare you say that I did something wrong? Hold that tongue, good Sir, and choose thy words with care!
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2024-06-10
My imagination
of frozen vistas
will become
the past,
melting,
warmer ice breaking
bittersweet history of defeat,
love maddens me.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
of frozen vistas
will become
the past,
melting,
warmer ice breaking
bittersweet history of defeat,
love maddens me.
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2024-06-06
He sees her, a willow-wisp of a young woman passing by him, as he stands at the bus stop waiting for the Number 69 to arrive, late as usual. The penetrating light of the morning washes easily through her print skirt and the outlines of her legs become visible. He cranes his neck backward, watching her walk toward the bus stop, watching as the sun illuminates her form; a shapely and delicate body with pure skin, unblemished by a tan. Onto the bus he gets with her following behind. Stopping at the entrance, he grabs a handrail and watches as she takes her seat, next to an empty seat.
Should he?
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Should he?
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2024-06-04
He isn't what she anticipates, standing in front of him, waiting for the Number 69 bus, early for a change on this hot and humid day. He wears barely a stitch of clothing, no shirt or socks, just a toque and a pair of well-worn cargo pants, clinging to his slight hips, dragging down to his bum. His runners belong in the 70s, not originals but re-issues, capturing a retrograde style highly popular. His back captivates her thoughts; the shoulders are slightly rounded, the blades jut out, muscled, young and strong. His body creates a sculpted look of flesh and curve. She looks briefly at her watch until her eyes need to want him again, need to want to settle on him again. He stands with earbuds plugged in, music blaring, hardly aware of her presence.
Does she want to?
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Does she want to?
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2024-06-03
You are meaning,
solid form and reason.
There's no fear in your eyes,
holding firm your gentle word.
You lend me the night.
I never want to leave,
the privacy of our room.
For days, I want to remain
inside of your love
and on your tongue,
I do not taste the bitterness of life
as it so often appears.
Only the melody of your voice,
do I need to hear
your words of love, hanging in the air.
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solid form and reason.
There's no fear in your eyes,
holding firm your gentle word.
You lend me the night.
I never want to leave,
the privacy of our room.
For days, I want to remain
inside of your love
and on your tongue,
I do not taste the bitterness of life
as it so often appears.
Only the melody of your voice,
do I need to hear
your words of love, hanging in the air.
Read More
