Category Archives: Web Master

A cauldron of fire holds the disembodied yowl of my sex…

There is something timeless in a pithy Tweet, the limit of characters and the linearity of presentation makes it a matter of carving carefully while thinking graphically.


At the root of my dick is a cauldron of fire to hold the disembodied yowl of my sex. She puts her lips right there & whispers to it.


I haven’t been blogging lately (it was a To Do marked Done at 100 posts).  The Twittering flutters along because that is the essence of my “flair”, a poetic sense of economy in phrasing and a silly willful wink at our love∞sex obsession.

I encourage you to read more, and read differently (new authors, new medium, new time of day or era of time) so that you engage your brain in the wonder that is our written word built out of our spoken word.  This is our tribal knowledge, and use of language “speaks volumes” about a person or a group.

Just as an example of what language IS:  To be caught saying vile abusive things is not an “incident”, it is a MIND SET.  Times change but deep down character does not.  It doesn’t matter if you did what you bragged about doing, it is notable you think bragging about it is cool.  It isn’t that you shouldn’t have said it, you shouldn’t even (admit you) think it.  We can’t police your thoughts but we can infer a lot from your statements.  Lewd language can be ‘flirty-dirty’ but we cannot tolerate ‘rancid’.  It is the ingrained habitual disregard for dignity by the speaker toward the spoken-of that finally drags the ugly out where we can see it.

I ride the line between risqué and ridiculous so I know that verbal disrespect is a tone thing, and is of the moment, but that the longer-range intent of a statement will ring through.  The best defense against offensive statements is an arsenal of alternate language.  School yourself in our collective intelligence so you too enrich the world with your particular way of thinking.  Shut down the thoughtless and the crude because they are wasting your time.  Be brief, be firm, and then be gone from them.  You get only so many breaths to waft words into the air, be prudent!  Your ears drum only so much, listen carefully.

Rowdier Readers, check this out:

Shirley Jackson

25th Anniversary of Anita Hill’s outing her boss:


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Book Lovers’ Book: Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore – Robin Sloan

kathleenk.com_fiction_family_life_booksMr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore mixes old knowledge and new-for-now tech into a quest for perspective.  Robin Sloan earned the praise he’s receiving from the literati, and I admire the competent delivery.  It is one thing to think up an intricate story but it is quite another to properly pace that action using the colloquial structures circa 2013.  Throw in clashing cultures of the printed word (analog, if you will) and the digitized (sanitized) world.wide.wonderful with a feckless (yes, I said it) recorder of the realm.

He stands at the divide of worlds, not known for his decisiveness.  He feels the power and beauty of historic books, and he understands that the internet extracts and compiles information in context of all the other stuff it can get its virtual mind around.  What is lost is the specificity of a single book at a specific point in time in one pair of hands.  Books manifest the more general phenomenon of tribal knowledge: cross-cultural, inter-gender, transnational, and “in the air” obtained by osmosis.   The persistence of almanacs, for instance, speaks to our pattern-recognition preferences.  We love our weather forecasts whether based on a farmer’s reckoning or Doppler’s radar.  Is the sheer abundance of the internet sufficient to grant it supremacy as the sharer of knowledge?

Did you know that ninety-five percent of the internet was only created in the last five years?  But we know when it comes to all human knowledge, the ratio is just the opposite—in fact, [Old Knowledge] accounts for most things that most people know, and have ever known.

  — Raj, of fictionified Google by way of the Stanford geek-feeder stream (per narrator)

Mr. Penumbra is the embodiment of an eccentric old soul, successful in his own odd way it seems, while narrator Clay Jenson is a down-sized web designer who takes the overnight shift at the 24-Hour Bookstore.  Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore is launch point for a mission to unlock the key of life with overt gaming structure applied, another artful bit of weaving.  It is the metaphor for both worlds, and captures the FINITUDE of the narrator’s choices.  There may be many but each one made determines the variables next presented.  If he does, or if he doesn’t, if he is too quick, or too slow… all those choices!  And not just his.  There are cabals and cliques and rogues and the mindless faithful.

What results is a well-written adventure story complete with an interior wisdom delivered successfully at the end:  Everything is already here.


The fact I’m a bookmaker means I took definite satisfaction in the presentation of craft serving “knowledge transfer” that is so well captured in this book.  I happen to fabricate bedside readers for the adult mind.  I work  toward print layout; the book is a physical manifestation of ideas expressed in fonts and escapements.  KathleenKBooks are purpose-built to tuck into the nightstand, vacation tote, Christmas stocking or briefcase.  I surrender them to Kindle format to be e-fingered by people who may get the content but lose the tactile fundament of the book’s very existence.  Each of my books in print weighs a specific something, it has a texture and a layout; it has presence.  All Kindle books feel the same, compressed into the one-size-fits-all screen.

Not that I have anything against technology:  I  fund my indie book biz with money I earn as an IT pro.  I get the Google.

Bookmaking is a venerable art sped up by technology but bottom line is words are human currency.  Reading these words arranged by Robin Sloan is time well spent.

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Grace Hopper Taught Computers to Talk and I Listened


PC circa 1997 with a B: drive

I’ve been in alternative publishing since the 1900’s and as soon as I could move my work from my beloved Selectric typewriter to computer, I did.  I am ever grateful for twining my writing life with electronic publishing long before people were @anywhere.

I reserved my first domain name in 1997.  That’s pre-Millennial.  [56K modems were scorching!]  The B: drive was so handy… but where is it now?

And long before me, came Grace Hopper, credited with humanizing computer language and opening up a functional landscape to all who followed.  She bridged a critical gap between people and machines, and kept on doing so throughout her Naval career, demystifying the world of coding, bugs and all.  She served with distinction, alongside other data pioneers who I doubt would see our meme-driven social scuffles as the best outcome of all their work.  They’d want to hear about the 3D printer.

At present, we’re squandering a wondrous global communication network on crass ass bullying, and general sloppiness.  Like all eras, there’s a transition when — just for instance — people threw human waste out their windows, then into the nearby canal, then piped it to a local tank — because it became a matter of SCALE.  Same so the indulgent online pollution of a pornadgraphy-driven Internet.

There’s lots of good stuff out there both online and in life, you can be more thoughtful about what you allow into your head.  Yes, you can look at some big ass’s big ass OR you could find book recommendations, for instance:  Slate Staff’s Best Books of 2014

Book clubbers?  Check this out.

Small rowdy book clubs should approach me directly to discuss discounting books for your members.

Just the Gist:  At least, don’t add to the ugly; at best, add to the beauty.

#gracehopper #readmore #bookclubs

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I draw a cat; Mandot draws a bird and a… human

I drew a picture of a cat to illustrate a point.  I can’t draw, I can suggest:


Barry “Mandot” Messer drew a bird.  Mandot can not only draw, he can illuminate:


Mandot drew a… human.  [For me,] it is as much about what isn’t as what is:


Barry a/k/a Mandot provided the art for Stoner’s Bone of Contention (The Weightless Joint) but our collaboration reaches back to 1984 when he first illustrated an erotic poetry book of mine titled “I Feel as I Am Felt” now included in ARCHING OVER:  Collected collections of graphic poetry.

Enjoy the idea that artists walk among us, as do dancers and drummers and all the rest.  Enjoy that.  Buy a book, sit for a sketch, toss a couple of bucks to a singer at the market.  Then pop that thought onto your home page, into your Twitter because the only cure for negativity is positivity.

Tossing energy at Barry’s work is part of my contribution to elevating the  .world .wide .wonderful

COMMENTARY by indie author-publisher Kathleen K.

There is necessary discussion of gender dynamics on the Internet since the imbalance is amplified due to volume (ha ha)… too much information is tilted toward the lower order of male thinking.  It has ever been so.  Pornography drives innovations in publishing.  Which doesn’t mean it has to stay that way.  There is finally a gender-neutral digital global platform available to rectify the untoward emphasis on the man-ram-jam mentality.

Not only is self-sourced web info skewed along traditional male-power lines, but the corporate entities have only slowly gotten the message about female online presence:  Women are consumers and they scare sponsors.  That’s what puts the bite in the outcry against, just by way of example, the NFL’s complicity in the culture’s tolerance of violence toward women and children.  We did make it illegal, now we have to make it unacceptable (you know, like the ongoing shift in attitude about drunk driving).

For so long it was easy to figure how to portray women sexually:  Porn was for men because men had the money.

Time for some new math.  Women may have been “given the vote”, but we’ve taken over education; we represent a shifting definition of success with an impact on local and global economies.  In that world of accomplishment and challenge, we do share our passionate fantasies.  People like me even make a business of sex-positivity by keeping it is as far away from glory-hole antics as can be.

Many people want their erotica intelligent and inventive, showcasing the power and the glory of union rather than the hydraulic actions of a self-satisfying man using any old cum-dumpster.  Atmosphere counts when women express sexuality, it may be more suggestive yet the goal remains to stir overt response in both genders.

I write for rowdier readers of all persuasions because they self-identify as open-minded.  It’s a fun crowd.


To get back to the cat, the bird, and the… human:  beyond fact lies nuance and ineffable elements of rare value that can be rendered by a talented hand.

#readmore #erotica #yesallwomen

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Branded! Logo Logic

It’s a big deal to create a logo for a business, you need to TELEGRAPH your meaning to a variety of viewers. I wanted a non-sexualized female wearing sensible high heels featuring something sassy around the ankles, her hair blown back by what she was reading, with a sense of movement. I asked for the xxx detail on the hem to give warning of adult-themes hidden in plain sight… then put more xxx’s on the collar “for fashion” and to add light at the neck. Do all that AND it had to work when miniaturized.

cropped-logo_green_big.jpg     cropped-logo_green_big.jpg      cropped-logo_green_big.jpg      cropped-logo_green_big.jpg Click the pic for detail.

This fresh embodiment of coincided with the re-launch of the website from its home-grown roots to a sleeker look and feel courtesy of and its user-friendly toolbox.

I am working with the logo artist Maxximus on a Post about the evolution of the logo design. He created a writer-reader engaged in a book. I may have had the idea but he knew, for instance, to bend her arm up to her chest (clutching her heart?) which gives her balance. I admire his craft and praise his sensitivity to the underlying tone. The message is clear that people carry books and books carry people.


And what will you find at Here’s a sample from Dark Prince, Heed Thy QueenComing.  Soon.

My female friends’ men were occasionally caught breaking “relationship rules,” the guys would mooch or stray or overstep.  Toy Boy Malfunction.  Stud Dud.  Whenever we found ourselves talking about things like this I would be grateful for Nathan.  I knew he wasn’t costing me any money, straying didn’t apply within our special context and similarly within our sensuous universe he was omni-potent thus unable to overstep.  He didn’t tell me what to do in any other area of my life so I didn’t feel over-dominated.  He bossed me in bed where it turns out I like to be told what to do.

I didn’t offer to describe to my friends the nights when Nathan would shave me and bathe me and stake me out on the bed and turn up the heat and smear me with my own body’s juices then let me simmer while he looked through Polaroid pictures of our sex life.  He never kept the pictures around long.  I thought he was romantically discreet but now I know he was probably thinking search warrants.

((Speaking of inventive, Nathan once bought me a bridal outfit and supplied a groom-in-tux to paw me on the alleged wedding bed.  Before the faux-spouse could bust my fantasy-restored hymen, Nathan stepped forward and ordered the chartered husband to leave the honeymoon suite.  Nathan told me that such a delectable bride deserved to be taken by the best man.))

I let it be known to my pals that I was being cared for in the boudoir but declined details.  They figured my partner was either encumbered, famous, or both.  He was a mystery man to them which kept the girl-talk light.  I don’t deny I got vicarious experience from hearing of their real-world boyfriends and husbands.  It was nice to have my own living+working territory, uncluttered by a spousal-type relationship [even if it also so happened I’d surrendered my soul to a little demon].  There’s nothing better than a fuck buddy who can really fuck.


I savored my alone time; I blended my memories and my fantasies. I tried on clothes and ironed my sheets and developed a new jack-off technique with a chubby vibrator rumbling along the seam and a buzzy button stimulator under the hood.  In those moments alone, when I was agitated by desire, there was freedom, I felt potential welling up.  I was on the high dive, poised for a flamboyant back-flip but surprised myself with an inward pike.  I could change trajectories that fast.


Nathan calls me and says, “I sent you a package in care of the lock shop on 19th.  I want you to pick up the package at 7:30 Friday evening.  Make sure to inspect the contents at the counter.  If you see me around there, don’t recognize me.”

Not sure what I’d be walking into, I wore black thigh-high stockings, a top-of-the-knee skirt with a kick pleat, a cashmere sweater.  No slip.  No bra.  No panties.  The heels I wore were a bit too high to be casual so I had to watch my step.  Nathan was not (visible) at the shop when I arrived but a suspicious number of virile men were hanging around profoundly absorbed in the keys-and-locks on display.  I played it simple because the men were pretending very hard not to watch me through their slitted eyes.  I wanted them to stay back and they did.  The promised package was easy to open, I pulled a string that slit a thin strip of tape to open the rectangular flaps.  Inside I found pictures of three men, and a note.

“Pick out one of these three.  Call him Lucky.  Please invite him to join us in the back room.  I’m done waiting.”


Nathan told me to write him a summary of what happened to me in the back of the lock shop but I refused.  I said I wanted to dictate it and have somebody transcribe it, like a stenographer in court… a witness to my tale.  He arranged for a guy with one of those steno machines to record my statement and put it to paper.

“This is Thursday, April 8th, and I am making a voluntary statement about my activities on one certain Friday evening.  I felt slutty and adventurous when I dressed that night; do you know what it’s like to plan to have multiple men checking me out simultaneously?  I felt their eyes on me, rolling up over my breasts and piercing my privacy.  They might never have been at a pussy raffle before this one, it was a turn-on just to participate.  ‘An honor to be nominated’ and all that.

“The three pictures given to me had to have been chosen at random, there was no theme.  An out-of-shape laborer with great hair, a sharp lawyer/banker/hitman/? and a unidentifiable sort of hipster-survivalist Mr. Mom.  I kept my eyes on the pictures so I’d pick on that basis alone, I wanted no extra cues from the actual men standing somewhere within speaking distance.  I went for the banker, he had smart eyes.

“Walking up to him, I could feel the men behind me deflate just a bit; they could let down their bellies and unsquare their shoulders: they escaped winning.  The banker knew to take my arm and escort me to the back without speaking.  We had to preserve a veneer of sociability even as we both were throbbingly aware that we were going to indulge in some naughty temptation.  Without fear, because there were boundaries protecting us all.

“The idea this stranger could touch me – touch me!   I felt my sex stirring, a flutter between my legs, a tightness in the nipples… was this a dream for him, too?  Did he realize I judged him worthy because he offered?  He had nothing to prove to me.  I wanted your attention, not his; I was going to absorb him because you’d see me do it, you were my focus, he was my instrument.

“I played him for you, do you think it was an accident that I had to bend over and slowly peel down my stockings, do you suppose I really forgot to wear panties?  I know you expected my sweater to come off sooner… I didn’t give in to your situational expectations.  You wanted me to get you two hounds howling, and for that particular purpose my nudity wouldn’t do.  I felt the cool air on my ass and knew your man hands would be hot, all four of them.  I hid the beauties from you, yes, but not from him.  I didn’t want you to see the conqueror tattoo I had pressed to my breastbone until later.

“For the record, I hereby attest I did kneel in front of the man I didn’t know and unzipped his pants with my teeth.  It may have been a surprise to him but you certainly know the gesture, don’t you?  The submission of kneeling, the gleam of teeth at the crotch.  I should have guessed a banker would wear boxers, under his tailored-to-be-loose suit.  He was rightfully proud of his body, that health club membership paid off.  He had a toned feeling to him, muscles available if needed, with the smooth hands of a modern man.  I was surprised at his thin cock, it didn’t seem “big” even though it was dense as rock.  It was easy to eat in that position, as I demonstrated to you both.  He was getting weak in the knees, his foundation was rocking.  Too much of a good thing, dizzy with it.

“He needed a break so I backed up against you, bare-assed against your jeans.  I felt the button fly press tight with the surge of your cock and balls, you filled the pocket in your crotch with a rising desire.  I would ride your knee eventually, but I felt like a constrictor snake waiting for your exhale before I wrapped myself around your heart, to seize you when you were empty then prevent your filling again.  Your hands moved up under my sweater and palmed my chest, your thumbs caressed my crowns.  What could I have done to be sweeter?  My box was brimming with good will towards men.

“So ends this voluntary statement.”


#IndieAuthor #erotica #readforfun



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Welcome to the .World .Wide .Wonderful — gets a makeover


Being an independent publisher means the websites that support the business have to be in my control; I patched together a workable online catalog long before most users were @anywhere.

I revolutionized my thinking over this one weekend.  See

I took the beautiful toolbox provided by and re-assembled my catalog in a simple outline format that translates well through the WordPress “themes” offered for free.  So far, I’ve tried Ryu, Oulipo, McKinley, Shaan, Twenty Twelve, Chunk, Forever, Suits.  Since I organized the pages along their simple principles, it’s a single click to change themes.  That’s cool!

I will do the higher tech work of redirecting my own domain traffic to this setup later this week but, really, it’s a great feeling of relief and progress to put the website into a much more adaptable framework.

Kevin Hart, the comedian, famously says:  “Everybody wants to be famous, but nobody wants to put the work in.”  I get that.  It’s why “I put the work in” this weekend polishing my website.

I love making books; hopefully this overhaul helps you rowdier readers find and appreciate them!

#KathleenKBooks #puttheworkin #KevinHart

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I don’t have fancy websites. I have functioning websites.

To answer people who ask how they can stake a claim to a working web domain for their own endeavors, here’s a recap.  In keeping with the indie aspect of my publishing business, I maintain my own online catalog to connect readers to book info and buy-links. Text is presented in columns, featuring book covers and snap-shot reviews.  I color-block a top banner with navigation links.  Click-tap-poke around and you’ll get bio and contact info, “Look Inside” book samples, fan page and interviews.  I want to engage with people who can read the following sentence and “get” it:  “This is Libertine literature, the call of the wild to the rowdy.”  They also “get” this exchange:  “Spread ‘em.”  “Spread me.”  It’s all about the words.  “Slither hither.”

Don’t let the grass-roots simplicity of my presentation confuse you: live links interweave my message into the web-of-ever.  I don’t have time to fuss, not if I want to keep making books.  I happen to like my tech home-grown.  Committee-free.  The books, the blog, the connecting linkage is a solo effort.   [See Tech Note at end for details.] is the anchor site, I grabbed that domain name in 1997 when my first book went to paperback.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my own domain but it seemed handy to have, you know, if that Star Trek communicator stuff ever really caught on. 

Context Clue:  September 15, 1997 – The domain name for the web search engine Google is registered. was acquired when that adults-only domain became available. uses the other two sites as collector-distributors to point readers to this indie business of making high quality books at reasonable prices for sophisticated readers.  You have to consider the framework carefully just in case you actually stir up some traffic.  Keep it simple, make it strong.

Once you do wander into my domain, I trust you web crawlers are readers and I promise that there is plenty of depth at these sites for the curious, and spice for the profane.

Then I took the most basic concept of Search Engine Optimization and named my web pages in a style that the content-robots prefer to digest.  By repeating key words in the link names themselves, I insinuated the same phrases over and over into the world wide index.




Once I had books to cross-reference, the pattern asserted itself.  Building this simple structure around eleven books (so far) and a blog, earns my books first-page results in online searches for “kathleenk erotica” and “kathleenk fiction” and “kathleenk curiosa” and “kathleenk books” and “kathleenk author” and ”kathleenk rowdier reader”.

BRANDING.  We still fall for shiny objects.  We know the words to product jingles, we sling the slogans.  I’ve got an easy one for you:  KathleenK.  It’s the key to a lively world of counterculture commentary and enticing books promoting sexual thoughtfulness.  Available through the global gateway of

#KathleenK #indieauthor #sexybook

TECH NOTE to DIY web folk:  Word-format documents are Saved-As HTML pages, then uploaded using FileZilla.  The simple content translates well from full-size monitor to hand-held devices because the columns segment the pages nicely.  This linking model works for any reliable-organized web master.  Do your own work on the site(s) devoted to your enterprise and the site(s) will be imbued with your values. 

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