I’ve been wanting to write all day but just didn’t get the time to sit down and get into a writing headspace and now it’s late and I haven’t got any of the shit I planned on doing tonight done. I’ve been on a music and arty binge for the last few days inbetween working and being mummeh. Still waiting to hear from the university as to whether or not I have got into this Design Course … I’m getting bloody impatient I just want to know if it’s yes or no. Bah I’m impatient.
Molten and I have been focusing on the kids and getting a bit of a system in place as far as chores and weekly planning so I’ve been distracted with that as well. It was funny as they kinda reacted to it but the silly thing was they are already doing it all just having it on a board and laid out infront of them was a little overwhelming I think. Hehe but the idea is to make everyone’s lives easier by getting everyone in the household to be a little responsible and help the mummy’s out too. The eldest cooked dinner last night and omg it was uber yum! I’m being nice and making scottish pancakes for dinner tomorrow night with yoghurt and fruit and noms hehe.
I had a very cool erotic/kink story sent to me the other day and I replied with comments and red edited bits and suggestions over it and then a conversation ensued with Molten about the whole writing erotica thing. I am sure sometimes my crazed ramblings make her bonkers hehe.
When I write erotica/kink stories I write from a fantasy, ideas others have given me, sometimes personal experiences or sometimes just pure fantastical ideas that flow out of my fingertips. The fucked up thing is though, that when I write these stories there are some people in my life that if they had the opportunity to actually read them, their reaction would be horrified, disgusted or simply they would probably look at me as if I had lost the plot. What they wouldn’t see is that it is a story, it is written as *fiction*. One could say this part of me is very private as to whom I choose to divulge that I write kinky erotic stuff. Let alone other things I do in my life. I don’t hide it because I am ashamed hell I love my life but I do respect that my lifestyle choices and some of the things that go on in my head are best preserved for those that do appreciate it.
Which is why I don’t always share the things I write with those who are close to me. Those that stumble across this blog and read things I write … well it’s their choice to stay or go.
The other thing I found interesting is a wee blurb in a book I have discussing kinksters and their lives. The assumptions made when reading a person’s erotica that what they write about is what they are into or want done to them. That’s not actually always the case. The aim (for me) of weaving a good story is to draw you into it, put you inside the person and let you feel what they are feeling or at least thats the way I try to write erotica. If I succeed in getting you to feel something, resonate with the words, even perhaps get you a little horny in the process … then I’ve done what I set out to do. Corrupt and deviate you a little, make your insides twitch and squirm. It doesn’t mean you want to do those things either.
A love of reading has taught me that escaping into a world of words for moments in time can be amazingly wonderful and exhilarating. Erotica is an artform and I love discovering new writers and the stories they weave. For me, erotica is simply a way to escape into a world of passion, lust, raw emotions and sexual exploration.
I find it hard to understand why sometimes people are horrified by it. Is it guilt or something else when they read words on a page that make them feel dirty or immoral for reading it? I often see people jumping on erotica writers for writing such “edgy stuff” or yano horrible bad evil pornographic stories. What gets me though is why the fook they keep reading it and then feel the need to try and make a writer feel bad for writing such a piece. Kinda silly really … I sit there and think well hang on, you read it all … so why?
Anyways I am blabbling, it’s late and my eyeballs are about ready to fall out of my head. So I am going to take my blabbling faintly still bruised ass to bed.
Mwah. x
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