Had a bit of an interesting week.
The world kinda got on top of me and I fell behind with the writing schedule. The 200 words a day haven’t and co-incidentally neither has my sleep and mental health. Not sure what they haven’t, but they haven’t.
I’m not letting myself get intimidated though! I am getting back on this horse and I will continue to ride!
I have ideas niggling in the back of my brain but the inner demons of craziness have been preventing me from letting them out. The only way to get past the demons though is to face them head on and say, screw you I will write anyway! That and wait until the cat is asleep, because, damn has she been mad for the past few days.
I’m making progress on chapter two of Resurrection and I’m liking how it’s going. I have a good idea of where the story will go and am enjoying the characters very much. I also have a longer story in the works that is about half complete and will be up on the site in it’s entirety within the next few weeks. So yeah, not dead, simply had a bit of a crappy week; but I’m stopping the self pity before it takes hold and am pushing on through regardless!
Words are a thing.
We use them for expressing how we feel, most of the time at least. The problem is, what happens when what you are feeling is so bundled up and curled in upon yourself that you have no words? What happens then? What if you are feeling so much that you are just overwhelmed with it all and want to hide away from everything? What can words do then?
Words become sounds in that situation. They become screams and groans, howls and sobs. They become scrunched up stomach muscles and explosions of tears. They change into confused glances and worried nails, colours and swirling images in your mind. They choke you and cause lumps in your throat that make you have to swallow back what you wanted to say.
They make you hold in the “but I love you’s” and the “please help me’s”.
You have no words when your mind steals them from you. You become your own prison and your own torturer. Nothing can set it right because you have no way of saying what it is that is wrong. After you have kept the words squashed down and captive for a while they start to lose all sense of meaning. They start to become fearful and try to hide away when you begin to feel like you might be able to say something. They skitter like scared little spiders across your brain, into the dark places within your mind. They like the dark places. It’s safe there and they are amongst company that feels the same as they do.
The words become so good at hiding from you that you begin to wonder if they will ever come out. All you can do is cry and scream, and wonder why, why me? Why do I have to feel so much? Why do I have to hurt? Why do I have to love? Why can’t I be free from this? Why won’t the words just come out? Why do I have to be so scared?
Rating: NC17, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Mind Control, Magic, Teacher/Student, Mind Sex, Forced Orgasm, M/F.
Soooo, F has planted the idea of publishing in my brain and it seems that my brain is starting to like said plan.
I’ve just spent all morning (in between looking after a sick other half and a kitten) reading about how to publish short erotic stories on Amazon. It actually seems very do-able.
I’ll have to research and learn more about the publishing process of Amazon looks at F but yeah, I think I’m actually going to be brave and do this stuff. It’s been a personal goal of mine to make real money from my writing and whilst I do VERY much enjoy writing my novel (35k words and counting), I am also actually GOOD at writing porn. Sorry, erotica. I’m good at the novel too, but the porn tends to steal my brain more often than not and run away with it to happy kinky places.
By focussing on making money through erotica on Amazon I can also actually contribute to the household income, which isn’t something I’m doing right now.
My wonderful other half is supporting me through my writing trials and authors growing pains. He is a good man. A patient one too.
With the introduction of F into my life and her infinite and seemingly bottomless belief that I can do this shit, I’m actually starting to feel the same way. I believe this is what healthy people call hope and self belief. So yeah, watch this space for links to my books on Amazon folks!
Summary: When she finds a dead druid along with a scroll of resurrection, our heroin decides to have herself a little fun before returning to her solitary home.
Rating: NC17, Magic and Dubious Consent, M/F.
So this story needs a bit of context. My wonderful friend F has set me a daily limit of writing her at least 200 words in order to keep my creative juices flowing and, coincidentally, myself writing.
I also play a lot of WoW on a great private server called Primal Wow, which can be found here if anyone’s interested along with some more information here from an ever-so-slightly Youtube famous guildie of mine. (Love you Hamster).
During a particularly interesting run through of MC the Dutchies in our guild started to discuss pastry and F – loving their accents – started to giggle like hell and came out with (I swear I love her brain so much) “Oh my god, if any of you guys said anything like that during sex I’d loose it, I swear.”
Hilarious discussions between myself and F ensued via in game whisper…and the result is as follows.
Summary: She really likes Dutch pastries.
Rating: NC17 – Adult content, mild kink, M/F
The decision to ignore the warnings of friends will change her life forever.
Summary: A trip to a local haunted hotel goes very awry for one unfortunate guest.