So, I’ve been thinking a great deal on writing sexy.
I’ve also been reading a great deal of erotica. Research, you know. Not that all erotica is sexy. Or even good. But, there IS good erotica out there once you dig through the crap.
But that is not what this post is about. Not really.
I’ve discovered that Toddler doesn’t want to sleep anymore. Ever.
It used to be that he would nap and I could crank out a few thousand words and rock with my bad self. This wonderful situation is now a daydream of epic proportions.
Now my writing goes something like this.
I sit down at my computer and screaming starts from the bedroom where he is jumping on the bed with my cell phone for entertainment. Not “I fell off and I’m dying” kind of screams, which would have me in there so fast my computer would still be attached to me. No, this is “this video is not what I want to be jumping to and you aren’t here to watch me jump anyway so I’m gonna shriek in frustration and not use my words because words suck” kind of screaming. It’s the kind that grates on nerves and never lets you forget that you really just have to sexy anymore. Because you have a toddler.
Or maybe I sit down to write and he sits next to me playing the Gummy Bear song on full volume for hours on end while leaning on me to make me watch with him.
None of these, or their variations, are conducive to writing the sexy.
To write sexy, I need to think sexy and it is nearly impossible to think, feel or be sexy when I have Toddler sitting on me or screaming at me. It makes finding that mindset so much more difficult.
I have no trouble pretending no one will read my smut. I have no problem letting people read my smut. I’ve developed an increasing problem writing any sort of sexy scene.
I miss naptime. I really really miss it with a passion usually reserved for chocolate during pregnancies. Naptime was me time. Well, on with the attempt at bringing sexy back for Camp NaNo.