Monday, February 16, 2009

I Awoke This Morning from Uneasy Dreams

Unlike the main character in my new story, MAN-amorphosis, I awoke from uneasy dreams this morning not with a vagina...but with a good review. Having gotten to know my penis rather well lo these many years (and survived its ups and downs), I was rather glad not to wake up to find I had my own love taco, but a little literary love.

The main character of my short ebook (only $3 and a mere 27 pages), MAN-amorphosis had a much more transforming experience than I did, though, because as "Rick" begins "his" story:

I awoke one morning from uneasy dreams to find my penis had transformed itself into a vagina...

I go on from there (with a big nod to Franz Kafka). MAN-amorphosis is one of the oddest stories I've ever written. It's horror of a different sort, one that should make you all squirmy and giggly (you may even release a little pee).

I'm glad my reviewer, Reviews by Jessewave, got the story. Here's a little of what Wave had to say:

"Man-Amorphosis is without a doubt one of the funniest books I have ever read. Who knew horror writer Rick R. Reed had such a delicious, wonderful, side splitting sense of humor? Did he write this book to escape the gross things he normally writes...? Is this another type of "horror" for a gay man...? Did he write this book because he wondered what it would be like to have a va jay jay? We'll probably never know because he's not telling (I asked)*g* but whatever the reason, this is a must read."

She really did have the nerve, before posting her review, to ask if it was in any way autobiographical. The nerve! I told her I never morph and tell.

Wave also said:

"This is one of the most unusual, imaginative and refreshing books that I have read in a long time. Rick Reed is a master story teller and he doesn't spare the details in this romp in the park as he recounts Rickie's adventure on the other side of the sheets. Man-Amorphosis is going to rock your socks and maybe other articles of clothing because this author does not skimp on the fun. Buy this book ... it will more than tickle your funny bone."

Read her whole review here.

And I hope you'll give my story about what happens to a gay man who wakes up with an innie instead of an outie between his legs a chance. It's funny. It's bizarre. And it's easy-to-read, even on a computer screen. And, like me, it's cheap: three measly bucks. Pick it up here.

And if you're still unsure, here's a little sample:

...I awoke one morning from uneasy dreams to find my penis had transformed itself into a vagina.

I was lying on my back and, as is my custom, reached down to give myself a good morning grope. It was my perky way of welcoming in the day. Usually, what awaited my wandering hand was a large column of flesh, with the tension of a steel girder, and the approximate length and width of professional wrestler “The Rock’s” forearm.

My blood ran cold when the hand felt nothing. Imagine how stressed you feel when your wallet or keys have suddenly vanished. Multiply that to the nth degree and you’ll maybe get a hint of the alarm I felt when I discovered my penis had disappeared.

Hoping for a different outcome, I reached down again. Yes, the pubic hair was there, in all its curly, silky glory. The cock, however, had flown the roost. But as I groped, I discovered that, in its place, was not nothing, but something new, different…and damp. Although much of my sexual experience had of late been with the male gender, I had, in my misspent youth, explored the other side of the sexual coin to a ridiculous, self-denying extent (and if you’ve ever met my little daughter, you know it’s true), so I recognized the contours and texture of the feminine apparatus referred to by doctors as a vagina. Everyone else calls it a pussy, box, hair pie, beaver, muff, bush, twat, cunt, quim, red snapper, bearded clam, and God only knows what else.

But what was one of these things doing between my legs? How had it managed to get there? Where had what doctors referred to as a penis gone (you probably call it a dick, cock, wee wee, prostate poker, Johnson, prick, sausage, rod)? Albeit a moustache of sweat had formed on my upper lip, I couldn’t restrain myself from beginning to explore my lower lips. They had a silky smoothness, a not unpleasant bumpiness, an unevenness that appealed to my sense of aesthetic asymmetry. As I gently massaged them, I felt them unfold, like a small, fleshy flower. They sort of puffed up, which made me think how much money people like Melanie Griffith and Barbara Hershey could have saved on collagen if they could have mastered this trick on their upper lips. But I couldn’t be distracted by thoughts of movie star snatches when I suddenly found I had my own...

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