Harper Lewis
Bio
I'm a subversive weirdo nerd witch who loves rocks. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction may have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
My words are mine. Suggest ai use and get eviscerated.
MA English literature, CofC
Achievements (12)
Stories (219)
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Medea Gets Fleeced
Dear Medea, First, thank you for the sheep—I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. However, you betrayed your father and brother so I might have them, and, well, having forsaken them, you sort of screwed me out of your dowry. Also, how can I have faith in your loyalty? What if Odysseus sailed past and you fell in love with him, betraying me? I don’t have room for that kind of doubt in my life.
By Harper Lewis17 days ago in Fiction
The Benefits of Writing Porn. Content Warning.
I’m here today to talk about how writing porn (erotica, romance, whatever you call writing that readers derive sexual pleasure from) enhances and improves other writing. It does this in multiple ways, if you have the ovaries or cajones to really go for it. I can hear the Pollyannas clutching their pearls from here, see the shocked, judgmental looks aimed like lasers at me for daring to put romance as a parenthetical of porn (which is where it belongs).
By Harper Lewis17 days ago in Writers
Dear John,. Content Warning.
Update here, comments closed on this post to prevent an organizational nightmare. Spring is in the air, so let’s focus on love letters (kind of)—specifically, Dear John letters. Have you ever written one? Received one? Here’s your chance.
By Harper Lewis18 days ago in Writers
Take Off Your Prose!. Content Warning.
Welcome to the Temple of the Profane. I know, right? Whodathunk I’d ever encourage end rhyme? If it’s offensive, I’m okay with it. Grab a pint of Guinness or Jameson’s and don’t tell me “dirty limerick” is redundant. I’m well aware that if it isn’t dirty, it’s not a true limerick. But some people try to ruin a good time with some puritan Pollyanna bullshit every chance they get. I’ve read some clean limericks, and there’s something about them that’s more wrong than an olive in a Bloody Mary or a stalk of celery in a fucking martini. If I can figure out how, I’ll fine anyone who tries to sneak a clean limerick in here, and I’ll press criminal charges if sentimentality enters the equation. It has no place outside of Hallmark cards and movies, and we’re not dumbing down this room.
By Harper Lewis18 days ago in Writers
Kevin’s Wedding. Content Warning.
As you all know, Kevin and I were roommates at Duke, then for a few years after graduation, until he and Sloane moved in together. I remember Sloane’s friends cautioning her against moving in without a ring, that she’d never get one if she shacked up without one, but I knew that for Kevin, moving in with Sloane would lead us here.
By Harper Lewis19 days ago in Fiction
Boxing
When I was in my mid-thirties, I joined the Augusta Boxing Club on Walton Way. The subtitle is the club motto, and I saw guys wearing t-shirts emblazoned with sayings like “Fighting solves EVERYTHING.” I was the only woman, and I swear I got high on the testosterone.
By Harper Lewis19 days ago in Writers
