Pearls for Trolls

After publishing a few stories a couple of years ago the torrent of story telling abruptly stopped. Maybe it was a reality check. My private hobby was no longer private. I had met my public to a mixed response. There were many positives, including 5 star reviews and compliments from readers and fellow writers. But I also encountered a back lash on Amazon and Goodreads forums and on blogs. The charge lead by a disgruntled author of gay m/m romances whom I can only suppose took offence at questions I had raised about the implicit sexism in the genre. Although her attacks questioned my literary abilities, she also asserted that on principle she would not read me. Her attack literally unleashed the trolls. She champions the group known as the Goodreads bullies and I suspect that at least a few of them were her sock puppets.

But there were deeper more personal reasons too. Apart from insecurities, I knew my work was less than perfect. My words don’t always flow, my thinking can be confused, I am susceptible to mistakes.

The work in itself was quite controversial. On the surface it lampooned the m/m romantic genre. Many of the sentences were lifted directly from other works with only slight tweaking. But also, from a gay mans perspective, I attempted to make the fantasy real. To show that in practice some of the erotic wonders were actually gross and physically impossible.

There was also a deeper current, the subject of sexual abuse. I was attempting to describe, from a victims perspective how abuse can be both exciting and disgusting at the same time. Rather than confront my own childhood abuse directly I had put the feelings into Joe, an inexperienced but adult man straight out of college. The abuser was not a conventional monster, but a charismatic do gooder. While writing the story he became more sympathetic and attractive and indeed very few readers have noticed that he is indeed the villain of the story.

So when the trolls attacked my sanity and morality, they hit where I was vulnerable. I was writing about issues that disturbed me and I wanted to convey my very mixed emotions. I had used a metaphor, raw food, it was the modus operandi of the abuse, but it also described Joe. He was the Raw Food to be devoured in lust. 

In retrospect, the most significant event in Raw Food, was the spontaneous appearance of Button, a young looking rent boy and junkie, who apparently randomly was waiting for Joe at the top of the stairs. I had not planned him, he walked in to my story of his own accord but he soon became essential to the mechanism of the plot. His near death from a heroin overdose, forced the formulaic ending which doomed them all to a unsatisfactory and ironic happy ever after.

To me Button was the least plausible or rounded character in the story. Unlike the other characters, he was not drawn from real life. But after receiving letters from readers, I soon discovered that he was the most loved character in the story.

I attempted a few other stories all unfinished. I managed a biographical account of my own history as a child sex abuse victim and its after effects. But the thought of hostile eyes reading it and dissecting it for proof of my evil means it will probably remain unpublished.

But I was motivated to write again. Quite a few readers had asked for a sequel to Raw Food. I even had requests for where the story should go next. I had however lost faith.

Yet recently, a small Epiphany about who Button was caused me to revisit Raw Food. I discovered that Button was indeed what new agers describe as the “inner child”. His appearance was not as random as I had imagined but was part of a deeper plan.

I had encountered him before in creative visualization exercises. Without knowing our destination, my inner (i.e. imaginary) guide had taken me deep down into the earth through caves where I had found him imprisoned in a dungeon – in my own private hell. I set him free and we shared euphoria and tears, but I was warned by my guide that this was only the start of a process. He would, of his own accord, return to incarceration and would need freeing many times before permanent healing could ever be achieved.

Thus I discovered that the story Raw Food was not only unfinished, it had scarcely even begun. It seemed that all my frustrated attempts to write other stories were because I was defying my muse and attempting the wrong stories. I had to free my inner child yet again, this time by rewriting my own personal mythology.

The words again came in torrents. Often too fast to properly fix on the page, with notes and scraps of poetry bridging scenes. These were to be expanded on when the whole story was down. To my surprise this story has proved the most crafted plot I have yet written. Though the planning was all from a deeper level, naturally growing from the seeds sown in raw food and my personal mythology.

Button and Joe are the two poles of my own self seeking harmonic unity. Although I freely fictionalised, basing Buttons history of abuse more on a friends than my own and had Joe as a successful film director, their dreams, feelings and experiences were all out of my life.

Now near completion, the work is far from perfect. It makes the uneasy transformation from sex comedy to druggy fantasy before the pattern of healing is apparent. It is a potential minefield of misunderstandings. Button’s morality was warped just to survive, he accepts as normal what most right minded people would find abhorrent. As with me, it took a large dose of an hallucinogenic drug before he recognized his own inherent goodness and accepted a willingness to heal.

Too me it is very important and significant, probably much more than it could ever be to any one else. But as I neared completion of the first draft my insecurities returned and I found excuses to postpone finishing it. I soon realized I was terrified of publishing and seeing my baby trashed by those hostile to my very existence. So, with great regret, I decided not to publish. This, at least, rekindled my enthusiasm for the project and now the first draft is finished.

Maybe it is my crowning achievement. Or maybe it is rubbish. I can’t honestly say, I am too close to it. My joy and tears are on every page as are my blood, toil and suffering. Probably, unless you are me, its subtleties and deeper meanings are irrelevant.

So I finish this blog as I started, in a state of confusion. Frustrated, but still unwilling to throw my pearls before trolls.








2 thoughts on “Pearls for Trolls

  1. hey bb
    do not let these trolls abused what you have more and most magical in you and that you are the sole and exclusive recipient.

    In my opinion the soul, mind and body must be maintained on the same footing to avoid deficiency of one of them.

    “Maybe it is my crowning achievement” in a certain way, for the first draft. And the completion of it after all the pieces finished and reunited, the result will be a magnificent.

    The liberation came after yourself decision of “not to publish”.
    You buried this fear inside in the deepest part of your being,
    where your certainty regenerates the idea of ​​your own decision-making power.

    At the same time it has created a temporary release equivalent to a momentum out of the contemplative sphere of your insecurity caused by the fear of judgment.

    “Or maybe it’s bullshit” look at this as an excessive extension of sincerity caused and exacerbated by the fear of the first citation, a kind of hasty conclusion to reinforce the neutrality of the mind thinking.

    I hope one day, I will read it here, that you completely finished it by putting together the three parts of this fabulous project story, which in fact, is the result of a painful introspection
    but oh so liberating to both emotional suffering a personal awareness and an artistic approach, salutary and beneficial to the soul of a creator.

    The idea is crazy, but it is still the best of your imagination thought and all the creative ideas are crazy, especially if they are full of buried feelings.

    Once an attempt to confront in order to rebuild is initiated , these feelings are the direct complement of the qualities attribute of the subject that you are and they become amplified , hence, the regeneration and the release.
    Try , you’ll see.

    From there you will understand the ease of pace in practice: some crude erotic wonders are actually physically possible , with or without love, with or without romance , because it is always the expression of the soul through the mind and body.

    The moral is always suggested by someone who ignores these things .

    Those indoctrinated about good and evil are very strong on this, they have the judgment to the extent of their mind and they live by expectations of that plagues.
    They do not understand that evil is kept in them by the application of judgment, judgment towards others.

    I love the metaphor “raw food”, because in real life, this is what it is in the order of maintaining the conduct by itself.

    In my opinion, whether it be to express soothing feelings or alienating one, a romance, sexual desire, or these three at a time, mind is unleashed in order to let the body explore and express the soul which animates the whole.

    i didn’t read the story of your imagination mix with your own personal mythology, but surely I can say that I already love the characters Joe and Button.

    Things you should know about me is the fact I met my alter ego at the age of five, he was my eldest of three (5-8) and we had our romance, hiding under the leadership of childhood but never bother by anyone until I was nineteen. And this is not fiction.

    He has transformed me by the senses from the first evening that we met each other. At school, he was my guardian angel until he changes school three years later. That year, I was lost.
    We were almost always together, especially after homework, we’d run to finish to come together.

    I will have twenty-nine soon, and I practice a scandalous philosophy according to kind of persons mentioned above.

    I am against any indoctrination and thought-made imposed by others, or any way, about everything and anything.

    The intimidation of the mind by the single thought makes me crazy, but I control myself by explaining to the people affected, especially the parents of young children, because at the stage of adolescence the damage is already done.

    Shut up cimon and go to the point!

    It would be a honnor to read your tale of “raw food” pearls.

    ps: we met each other virtually, you know where…

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