Yes, this report has been a little while appearing, but that is down to the fact that I went straight from Sexhibition to Whitby Folk week – something of a contrast. Just a bit… After two days of delicious depravity and a head full of kinky sex, I had to switch mindsets to seaside, family time, folk dancing and lots of fish and chips.
I managed to do this once the Whitby-bound train headed off over the Yorkshire moors, can of cider in hand and Morris bells jingling in my kitbag, after which I proceeded to thoroughly enjoy myself and attempt to catch crabs, too. Yes, insert your own punchline wherever you like. Though if you think Morris dancing is not the likeliest of occupations for an erotica writer, you are quite wrong. (Spring In My Step, published by Xcite in 2014, is an erotic novella about a couple of Morris dancers. It was something of a talking point in the folk world when it came out.)
Sexhibition, though… Well, it was really quite a lot of fun in the Smut corner. Victoria Blisse and co had secured a really good sized chunk of the exhibition space, which was itself a slightly bewildering brickwork maze. We had several rows of comfy chairs, banners and posters all over the place, one corner dedicated to the fabulously nuts Professor Scribblicious and his gang of twisted circus acts, pole dancers and cosplay cuties.
Of course, we also had a big table of books to sell and an erotic tombola, and we gave a whole series of reading slams during the course of the weekend. I had dithered a bit beforehand about what, exactly, I would feel like sharing with a large and potentially unknown audience, so I packed a wide selection of extracts. Having heard from Victoria that the late-night slam was likely to be ‘a bit darker’, however, I decided to take the plunge and read an extract from Precious Things, a short story which has been accepted for the upcoming Sexy Little Pages anthology Goodbye Moderation: Lust. And which is the lairiest thing I have written so far. It seemed to please the crowd, though. Victoria did a couple of workshops, and on the Saturday the reading slams also featured Tabitha Rayne, Lucy Felthouse, Anna Sky, Scarlett Flame and a new author to all of us, Immani Love. Sunday we were back down to the slam core of Victoria, me and Liv Honeywell, who won the Erotic Writer of the Year award on the Friday night.
As Saturday night went on, there was less shopping but far, far more misbehaviour: there was a well-equipped playroom and no shortage of people to play with. I should, perhaps, spare Certain People’s blushes by not listing exactly who did what to whom, but let’s say there was a certain amount of giggly glee among our lot (including the Very Nice Chap who was accompanying me for the weekend) come Sunday morning.
Sunday was overall rather quieter, though how much this had to do with everyone’s dire need to recover from their excesses so far, I wouldn’t like to say. We still managed to sell a few books, entertain a few more people with readings and performances, and it was a bit of a struggle to tear myself away in the late afternoon. Particularly as I forgot my lovely DSW banner, as shown above, and had to hurtle back and fetch it… Roll on next year’s show.