By Oxartes (Guest Blogger)
"But leave the Wise to wrangle,and with me The Quarrel of the Universe let be:And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee."
"Never does she feel more truly 'successful' as a writer than when she sees what passions her works arouse in people. One writes alone in blissful, or paranoid, solitude...So, to see actual fellow humans being moved to laughter, tears, and argument by one's work -- that is vindication. One is a good social being after all."
I've created a series of stories about succubi and incubi. I've written several stories based on people/accounts from the Bible. Being an orthodox Jew, I've created an orthodox Jewish couple and written about them.
"(...)Bram Stoker's Dracula, in short, is an apparition of what we repress, particularly eros. To be bitten by Dracula is to become slave to a kind of lust, abandoned to unlawful hungers, a projection of the beholder's desire and dread...Dracula is the symptom of a wish, largely sexual, that we wish we did not have. The effect of repression is to turn a hunger into a horror; the image of a repressed longing as it appears in a dream or a fiction is a sinister shape that threatens with what it promises, that insinuates the desire beneath the fear...…For Dracula is a classic, a book that tells us not what happened but shows us something of what happens wherever there are humans. The fear of death and the fear of the dead and the dream of immortality; the psychological and sexual dialectic within us of mastery and submission, of sadism and masochism, of the desire to hurt those we love and be hurt by them for our desires, the conflict within us between knowledge turned into civilizing power and the power of unknowable and uncivil urges, the alternating control over us of the moonlit energies of the night, when fantasies rise from our sleeping heads to enact our darkest desires, and the waking renunciations of the day, and define manhood and womanhood -- these have always been with us. In Dracula, for all its occasional clumsiness and systematic naivete, Stoker transformed what was merely personal or only of his time into images of something more -- of something at once monstrous and definitively human."