Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Did I shock you there (vagina, vagina, vagina)? Some people just get shocked by the word. That always surprises me. It’s rather clinical. It’s also a rather icky word. Seriously who said, “And we’ll call it…a vagina!” And the word-a-ticians applauded the brilliance of finding one of the most awful words on the planet for the girly part.
You know, it’s no wonder we find all kinds of euphemisms for it. We whip out the penis all over the place, but for the woman-junk there are all kinds of flowery and not so flowery terms that get slapped into place just so we can avoid the dreaded V word.
Purple prose was invented to swathe the girly part in bleeding plum-colored ink, hiding the true ugliness behind the moon grotto of passion. Only men are allowed to visit the moon grotto by the way, so ladies, back away. No lush gardens of pleasure for you. Because…I hate to break it to you, but your cats need to be draped in pretty words too.
Did you realize how sexist our language is?
And please…who first decided to call the penis a staff? Staff? Is it long enough to assist in walking? Or a pillar. Even at a very generous 9-10 inches, that is not a pillar. Perhaps an outgrowth like a budding stalagmite, but not a pillar.
But still…going back to the original word battle… Vagina vs Penis. Penis is a clear wiener in this cock fight. He struts around while the Vagina goes off to write monologues of angst. After all, she has all the abysmal words… VaJayJay (really????). Pussy (truly misguided). The “C” word (trying to keep it PG-13). Mound…
Mound? Like it’s a sacred burial place? Okay, fine. Yes, it is sacred burial grounds.
Recently, I heard it called Cat. As in: Just because you lost your virginity doesn't mean you can go around throwing your ' cat' at everyone. That was in Easy A. I have to say, I was amused. Finally, a good word. And you know what? The cat takes the cock in any fight. Hands down. (But let’s not get started on what the hands are doing)
Go forth and have fun with your hands and stuff... ;-)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Do you hear Donkey's voice whenever you hear "waffles"? I do. Every single time. And in the morning...we'll make WAFFLES!!!
That seems to be my writing theme this month. And in the morning...you will WAFFLE!!! It never seems to change. Maybe it's because there's so much going on. I don't know. But I've waffled.
Will I write the medieval?
Will I write one of the male/male books? Which one?
Will I work on the menage?
All of them are due around the same time so they all deserve attention. And there's more.
Will I roll out my new male/male name?
Will I change the heat level of what I write?
Will I keep doing menage and BDSM?
Will I stop doing them?
Would people care?
That's not "woe is me". That's career planning. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth my head goes. Clarity and direction aren't my strong suits right now. Even as far as:
Should I write in my office?
Should I write in the living room?
Should I go away and write?
Perhaps I should read a book. Have I done too little research? Or have I done the perfect amount?
Can you hear the primal scream that's slowly building in my throat?
Sometimes, I feel like I'm a lone boater in a circular ship, paddling madly in circles through a mire of mud. Waffling gets you nowhere fast. Waffling gets you nowhere slowly, even. It just gets you nowhere...
I get in these wafflely ways from time to time. It's usually when I have too much going on. When I do, there's only one thing that can be done. I have to step away, meditate and draw things out on paper. It's like they always teach you in school: break things down into steps.
Sometimes, when I do that--okay, really, ALWAYS when I do that--I'll end up doing the easiest project first. It might not be the most pressing thing, but it'll get done first because once it's done, it's off my plate. Then I'll knock off the next easiest thing, and so on.
Looking at my waffle-age list, you might wonder how I'd knock them off. Well, most of them I won't. They're not tasks; they're symptoms. When I waffle, I start second guessing everything. Strangely, the only thing that remains strong and un-second guessed is the writing itself--when I can wade through the mire to get to it.
It's all part of the writing life. I envy writers who know what they're going to do all the time. They have the exact determination and precision of a surgeon. No kidding, I really do admire that lot of people.
Now...would I trade my life for theirs? No. No way. I'm thankful for what I have...
Even if it means waffles every morning.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
This snippet is from my book Dick Does Jane, book five in the Taboo Wishes series available at Resplendence Publishing. Here are my six sentences:
“You’re late,” he said evenly, his tone devoid of any hint of his feelings on the matter.
This would be a good time to be a little submissive.
Jane hung her head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Hmm,” he responded, and Jane almost groaned. It was going to be like this.Have a great Sunday!