My abject apologies for missing last week. Frankly, my brain melted. There were a few days in the hospital with my father. The vet used the phrase 'at this stage of his disease' in reference to chronically ill cat. By Thursday night, I'm not certain I even knew my own name much less what day of the week it was. (Dad is fine. The cat is holding his own. I now know my own name, thanks.)
I could tell you I swore not to mess up my blog posts again, but I clearly did. From a writing stand point?
Easy. Erotica. I swore I wouldn't write one. Not because I hate them. Quite the contrary - assuming they're well written and the sex is handled gracefully (Jeffe's books). My issue was that I *couldn't* write one. I was quite convinced I didn't know how. Couldn't see how I'd make it believable or integral to the story and character arc. I knew other people did. I didn't believe I could.
Jeffe disagreed. She spent a fair bit of time suggesting that I could, indeed, write erotica if I tried. Then she went and dared me.
And agreed to mentor. From a writing standpoint, you weirdos.
She did have to explain the psychology of certain BDSM elements before I could attempt to write them. And to be perfectly honest, I failed to write an erotica. ENEMY MINE is hot, but it isn't, strictly speaking, an erotica. The sexual journey is the point of an erotica. ENEMY MINE had another, external story arc going alongside the sexual arc. Most people figure that sex is fun enough, I just had to have someone trying to kill everyone. Keeping it real. That's me.
But. There is one thing you can be sure of. Me writing an inspirational? Not gonna happen. Wrong religion.