It’s amusing to me when I start writing something that disintegrates into foolishness. I was just writing a little short story about a mousy bookworm who desperately wanted to be a slut. I know, it’s a completely silly idea and purely male. I erased what wrote almost as quickly as it had left my fingers. There was something funny about it though, but I don’t think I’m a good enough writer to mine it out.
I think my Catholic sensibilities got in my way as well. I don’t think I’ve ever even written a passionate sex scene in anything. I usually avoid it because it makes the Victorian in me nervous. It’s a natural part of being human, feeling passion for someone and wanting to express it physically so I’m not sure why it makes me so squeamish to write about it.
I like sex, but I don’t often talk about it. I am rather reserved when it comes to the whole thing. However, I will tease some female friends I know regarding our past intimacies and end up being as rude as the stereotypical construction worker hooting at the pretty ladies on the sidewalk. Most of the time I think of it as harmless flirting, but I am aware that it can become a little objectifying. I feel ashamed later but while the moment is there I can’t seem to see the harm. Most of the time I’m just egging them on in the hopes they’ll flirt back, which they don’t often do and I end up feeling more alone and undesirable.
It’s passion I’ve been lacking. Sure, I’ve been passionate in moments of intimacy, but it’s just a moment. I’ve not felt that long lasting, smoldering passion for someone in quite a long while. I wonder if that’s why I can’t seem to accurately describe a love scene in what I write. I have a hard enough time writing about two people kissing. I see my six year old self covering my eyes when two grown-ups kiss and thinking, “Gross!”
So it’s no wonder I would try to write about a mousy bookworm exploring her desires without having the first idea about what it means to live with passion. Now that I look back on it, the story has more potential than I thought. In fact, as an exercise I should probably make an effort to write that story and see what that mousy bookworm and I can discover together. So I guess this piece has become a trailer for an upcoming release.
I guess I had more to say than I thought.