In a week, I’ll be at Eroticon UK!
On Friday, I’ll be there for drinks. I herewith present my papers!
Name (and Twitter handle if you have one)
My name is Jerusalem Mortimer. But people generally call me Jaime.
It’s like James, but with no “s” on the end. One syllable. It’s not Jamie.
For social purposes and dauphins, my name is Jaime.
But I’m not thingy about it. Fact is, smile at me and I’ll answer to any bloody thing.
The pic is me on Day 10 after having my face ripped about by weasels! I can almost recognise myself. I’m having the stitches taken out this afternoon.
My Twitter handle is @JaimeMortimer.
What are you most looking forward to about Eroticon 2018?
Meeting up with the lovely Zoe, from @sexismynewhobby! That’s the big headline for me.
Beyond that, I’m looking forward to meeting lots of lovely people, who are so damn sharp, cool and nice (and generally lovely) that they astound me to admiration. I will buy many drinks!
Also, I really liked Camden when I was there last year, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the place a little better this time around.
We are creating a play list of songs for the Friday Night Meet and Greet. Nominate one song that you would like us to add to the play list and tell us why you picked that song.
Jerusalem (“And did those feet, in ancient time…”).
The Emerson, Lake and Palmer version.
Because Blake is about elemental force, and freedom, and breaking “the mind-forg’d manacles”. Also, the ELP version is an awesome reinvention of a brilliant song.
Weirdest place you’ve ever gotten up to mischief (define ‘mischief’ however you like…)
The Tutaekuri River, in New Zealand. The name, by the way, means “dogshit” in Maori. I suspect that some nineteenth century surveyor asked a local Maori what that river was called. The Maori guy came up with that, keeping a straight face, so it got into the mapbooks. It’s quite a pretty river, really.
Anyway, I was having sex with my girlfriend in a deep pool on one side of the Tutaekuri River, sitting on some underwater rocks.
The watery fucking got to an urgent point, but then a raft floated by, packed with boy scouts and a pink scoutmaster.
He kept trying to draw the boys’ attention to some sight on the opposite side of the river from us. He didn’t have much luck.
We stopped and didn’t start again till they’d they’d drifted on downriver and out of sight. Then, a minute later, there was another boyscout raft, this one with a red scoutmaster. We tried to lean back and look respectable, and not look too obviously joined, underwater. They passed, and the fucking resumed.
And then… there was a third raft, with a crimson scoutmaster.
We waited for a bit, but that was it. When the girlfriend came, it was the first time I’d ever heard a woman make orgasm noises and hysterical giggles simultaneously. Best sound ever, I thought.
Anyway, so we’ve done our bit for sex education.
Tell us two truths and a lie about yourself
- I am indomitable, probably to a fault.
- I secretly fear that my powers are not up to my ambitions, as a writer.
- When I was 11, I wrote a novel in which Percy Bysshe Shelley was rescued from drowning by a man in a time machine, who sent him to America to save the place from right-wing crazies on religion.
Complete the sentence: I want..
… to find a publisher for three books. Two novels, one funny and one crime-and racism focussed, also a non-fiction book about bdsm. Put me in paper!