Twenty in Four Years

This year I have some resolutions. One of them is to try and publish some short stories. I was always under the impression that I have many of them in this blog, but after searching all the posts since 2005 I realized there are only 20 so far. How many of these are publishable? Of course not the one about sniffing panties or the one about pouring mustard oil into a little boy. That means 18. These 18 stories cover only 33 pages in Word, so I must think of some more stories to make it stretch to at least 50 (pages in Word), meaning another ten stories or so.

With 30 of them, I can have a paperback of around 190 pages, priced at Rs 99 and available at all the wheelers and airport bookstalls. Something a bored passenger can pick up. But again, considering a person is adventurous enough to pick up a book by a complete stranger, what will ensure he/she reads it at all? The stories have to have some stuff in them to keep them engaged, glued to the pages. Something tells me sniffing panties is not such a bad idea after all. Most of these passengers are single. Single men, if not women. Men are generally horny and kinky, and more so when single. A horny, married man, out on a business trip and desperate for a fuck, jerking off and starching all the hotel bedsheets is what I am banking on. And they are available aplenty. Pot bellied, mostly, craving for attention, trying to strike up a conversation with single women, these men can be kept happy only if I give them the opportunity to experience some kink. That means I can include the two bowdlerized ones. Come back, faded brown, come back my mustard oil. But, how much kink can I churn out, knowing my sources are limited?

I guess digging back into my memories will serve my purpose. More on that later. For now, let me think of a cover for the book. It cannot be blatantly sexy. That might even be considered vulgar. I have to make sure the new Hindu moral brigade doesn't get to understand what's inside from the cover. But the title should be catchy enough for the single, bored, married man to pick it up and read the blurb.

Will meet Sudeshna soon. Will jump the manuscript on her during one of her least unsuspecting moments. Will talk to some editor friends who have volunteered to help.

And will finish writing those ten more stories. I have them in my mind. Be prepared to be scandalized even more.