I’ve been writing. The kind of story that takes me away from my housework and my social life (which consists mainly of friends and communities on the internet–yep, I’m a sad little monkey). And it may also be the kind of story that I never share, and that’s okay, because there is a story inside that needs to come out, and I can’t rest until it does.
It’s somewhat of a companion piece to another story I wrote about a year ago, give or take. I’m enjoying the visit with my characters, seeing how they’ve changed and grown–or not grown, as the case may be. The reason I may or may not ever share this story is that it’s a bit of a personal catharsis. I find this ‘I may not ever share it’ attitude to be very freeing. Who cares if it’s complete arse, it doesn’t matter if that word isn’t perfect, or that paragraph is chock full of adverbs and participles, because no one but me has to see it. It’s an attitude I need to embrace more often in my first (or zero) drafts, and not just in the technical aspects, but in the story. I have a tendency to stress over what is and isn’t ‘done’ or ‘acceptable’ or ‘in good taste’, and it slows me down and it stalls me when I’m writing. And if I’m trying to twist the story to suit anyone other than the story itself, it invariably fails. But I keep doing it *eye roll*
Where was I going with this? Oh, right, disappearing. Yes, so involved with the story that I’ve fallen off the face of the earth. It’s okay, I figure I’ll be back sometime around Christmas, when I envision I’ll be done.
Oh, I have been doing a little reading. I’ve just discovered a couple of Victorian novels of gay erotica. Teleny, or The Reverse of the Medal is a true erotic romance, and The Sins of the Cities of the Plain is flat out porn. I found them both for kindle on Amazon for $1 each, and I’ve been devouring them when I get a chance to read.
Teleny (1893) is beautiful and I adored it. Sins (1881) is peppered with colourful expressions like ‘mancunt’ which had me in fits of laughter, but it’s very interesting for the Victorianness of it. I’m both a Victorian era enthusiast and a gay porn enthusiast, so both these books are just my thing.