What a year this has been, but thankfully it’s almost over.
(What’s that? It’s not almost… Five full months to go? Oh…)
FINE THEN. I’ll just get back to work and try as hard as possible to keep my eyes on the writing page and off of the daily nightmare that is the news.
Believe it or not I’ll be finishing the sixth volume of the GOOD FRIEND series within the next couple of days. It’s a little longer than the others, but that makes sense if you consider that the story involves three people rather than the standard two characters of my other tales.
SPOILER ALERT: It’s about a threesome.
Once that’s done I plan to move on to something a little different. I have a character who keeps speaking to me in my head and insisting that her story needs to be heard. Something about being raised as a sex assassin…
It seems like there’s a lot more to it than that, so once I knock out these last couple of GF pages I’ll sit down and give this lady some time to tell me her story.
Then maybe I’ll tell it to you.
They say that is an ancient Chinese curse, but like so many things we like to believe that it’s total bullshit. It’s no more “ancient Chinese” than the secret in the old laundry detergent commercials. Or spaghetti.
And who cares, right? The era we are living in now is being described as “post-truth,” which is certainly interesting, if not really all that new. We’ve been living “post truth” for a long time. The difference now is that people can find out for themselves. But they don’t. Or they don’t care because the lies serve their needs and desires. Politicians and community leaders used to lie all the time and we just had to take their word for it. In the information age we can fact check them, and we do, but they still lie constantly. And no one does anything about it.
So fuck it. And fuck them.
(And fuck me, if you get the opportunity.)
The world is a mess. And what can I do? I write stories about people who love sex having sex and being happy about it. Is that helpful? I’d like to create art that soothes a tired and injured humanity, but I’m not sure if the world is ready for what I have to offer. My version of “peace on earth” is very similar to “piece of ass.”
So anyway, the year is ending and in many ways it feels like the world is ending. I just hope it goes out with the right kind of bang.
I won’t lie, I got caught up in the political landscape of our country leading up to the election, and that turned out to be a nightmare for me creatively. And sexually. The pain of the loss of possibility and potential that I experienced that night will stay with me forever, I assume. It came on like a physical ailment, like slipping further into a terrible fever as state after state slipped backwards into the cesspool of social conservatism. By the time the networks were calling it for Trump, I was despondent. My partner offered sex to lift my spirits, but in a rare state of malaise, I TURNED IT DOWN. That’s not like me at all, but the classic “not tonight dear, I have a headache” line was literally true for once. I sought the refuge of sleep, alone, and welcomed the deadening darkness that overtook me.
And that lasted, like, one day. By the end of the week, I was back to firing on all sexual cylinders. Some time the following week I got the bug to start writing about it again.
I am worried for our country and for the world in general. I don’t think we are OK, and I don’t think we are going to be OK. I hope kindness, understanding, and love win the day, but their representatives are not in charge at the moment. We could be in for a long haul, so it might be wise to shelter in place with a good book, pen and paper, and something hard and throbby.
My favorite things are reading, writing, and fucking.
I’m going to do as much of that as I can while it’s still legal.
A couple of days ago I wrote jokingly about perhaps being a little crazy. Well, I seem to have pissed off all my other personalities because now they don’t want to talk to me at all. I squeezed and dragged and screamed all day long yesterday and only managed around 100 words. Come on people, can’t we find a happy medium? Make me a happy medium and I promise I’ll do right by you on the page.
That’s all. Just a shout out to the writing gods, or demons, or whoever. Give me this day my thousand words.