Something that aches.
Before I continue in my tangential ways (I love that word, I always have, though I prefer divergent. Tangential sounds too mathematical but it is… a good way to describe me, my writing.), I’d like to address the fact that this is a reflection into me, about me, my work and a little of my personal life. I’m just thinking out loud ya’ll. I’m not trying to win a Pulitzer here. Just working towards a better self, whatever that may be. That’s the reason I mentioned in my last post, that I might lose some of you. That’s the risk I’m willing to take because… I can’t change for you, nor should you bend for me. It’s a two-way street and we should each be allowed to go in the direction we desire or feel passionate about.
Perhaps I got off to a rough start with Day 1, a bit chaotic (no surprise to those who know me and still read on). Let me see if I can change the ambience a little and introduce the song for Day 2. I like to start with the song first because maybe you’d like to listen while you read. I know I do. To help get me into the heat of things within my fiction. I’ve been listening to Touch & Go’s Straight to Number One. It has an amazing erotic beat. The vocals are lovely, sexy. It’s border-line orgasmic. Now if you have someone with you, participating, then it is… sublime. (Hope you’ve clicked on it and are listening to it.) Touch & Go is a British Jazz Pop group that has blasted their way with creative beats, luscious female vocal samples and just amazing orchestration, I think. Perhaps you have a thought on their sensual beats. (Phil… your thoughts?). Oh! Their Tango in Harlem beat. It is wonderfully quirky and sexy. Wiggling at my desk. It’s so luxurious the way the instruments seem to animate the love scenes I write. I come here a lot. Thank you, Touch & Go!
I’m talking about the kind of passion that can drive you crazy with want. That desire, lustful hunger, thirst for a kiss, a f***. That’s what I’m talking about. I’ve been writing a few love scenes these past few days, works from a couple of different WIPs. I can’t help it. When the dream wakes me, I have to drop everything and do what I gotta do. It’s just the way I’m wired. I don’t think I can change that. Not sure I want to. And this… I’m pants-ing it. Thinking out loud. I didn’t draw out an outline, or do any research (obvious). I think that’s raw passion. The fuck you hard and have you devour me kind of passion. It may be disgusting to some but it’s quite ravenously delicious to the rest of us.
You can translate that sexual, sensual passion into a passion for anything. It’s base, animalistic or it’s not passion. There is no such thing as a passion that is tame. No way. You go for it and you bleed it. That’s all there is. I like to create my love scenes like that. Raw… new… base. Even the most innocent kiss sneaks in the tongue. What about the hands? You want that juicy burger you crave it. You devour it. Can you imagine being thirsty, parched? Parched… insatiable thirst, a desire, a longing. It aches and f***s you up. He gives you a hungry look as you undress. She… she touches you, taking hold of you with a single feel. You’re done, gone. That’s how I approach my writing. I don’t think. I just attack it… with a passion, albeit childish at times.
I’ve thought about why it’s taking me so long to get SKoH out. I think as passionate as I am about my work… I’m scared. I’m learning too much and the innocent, perhaps, naïve, writer I used to be is growing and it’s scary. I’ve never let anyone but a couple of people read what I write. Not even my hubby has read that much. Now there are all of you. I’m scared. My passion is not dwindling but I’m vulnerable. I’m like a child learning to walk, landing on my ass and starting over. The passion is there pulling me, making me ache. But is that good enough? And is it worth it? All this passion… all this nonsense? It’s not right. Is it? I’m writing sex scenes between people that don’t exist, that are a part of me and not. Something to think about a bit more.
Passion. It’s what drives me. It may probably destroy me. I guess I’d rather die trying passionately than not at all.
Thanks for reading.