Just another wannabe author…

I say again, I should not be left alone with a paint program.  Ever.

I draw things… and then, worse, I show them to people.  I post them publicly.  Really bad things.

So you, my lucky ducky readers, get to see my horrendous versions of my main characters.  Yeah, you don’t know how good you have it.  Then I shall open myself to your laughter, because I’m laughing my ass off at myself.

First up we have the wonderful Stu.  He is a white knight in dragon form, prone to rescuing little helpless elves and then seducing them with his bipedal form… which I spared you all from having to see.


Next, I present to you the ever lovely raven haired beauty, Sue.  She is giving and kind and possesses a fiery temper than Stu finds impossible to resist.  A dragoness in the body of a slender elf maiden.  Perfect and feisty and oh so sweet.  And lovely, dammit!


Yeah, yeah, wipe away your tears of mirth.  Paint is an evil program and I can’t resist it.  It’s so…. so… I have no words.

On to more serious matters.

Stop laughing.


So, I made it ten full days of writing the bare minimum.  Then I ran into a snag.

A really big snag.

He weights around forty pounds, has red hair and is obsessed with watching Pocoyo.

Yes.  Toddler.

You see, I am writing an erotica.  With BDSM themes.  It’s supposed to be sexually charged, erotic, and all around sexy.

I have discovered something I’ve known.  It is really hard to feel sexy when you have a toddler jumping on you and screaming in your ear.  It is nearly impossible to think and write a sexy scene when those things happen.  I can’t do it.  I get about five whole minutes, just get into the right mindset, and then he’s climbing on me, demanding attention.  The whole attention needing thing isn’t the problem.  It’s that I can’t write when he’s doing that.

Today I am trying to write an actual sex scene.  Smut.  Really smutty smut.  And I can’t do it.  I can’t focus long enough to get the whole scene out, let alone the word count.  It is frustrating.  So now I will be waiting for his naptime, if it happens, or bedtime.

That means my streak is probably broken.  And even if it isn’t, when I hit my groove, I’m going to keep going out of sheer desperation to take full advantage of sleeping child time.  So, everyone now gets to stare in jealousy at my lovely graph while I bang my head on my keyboard, then go play with kiddo.  Maybe we will go shopping.  Being out in the heat always tires him out.


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