By Neale Sourna (Guest Blogger)
I write erotic fiction, both soft and hardcore, and sensuous and romantic game texts, and do so boldly. And even call my writing consulting site Writing-Naked.com, because I love writing, love to write, and love to have written—and yet I find, repeatedly, a middle class, middle American, Midwest, working class vibe of, “Hm, writing, that’s not REAL work, a REAL job you can do with pride, tell your grandma, and pay all your bills with.”
Like I had total pride and all my bills paid back when I was a secretary / executive assistant / office manager or retail salesperson or whatever. Absolutely not.
And my mom and grandma know what I write, even if they don’t read it.
“They” never leave you alone, nor does the noise in your own head, except unless you can prove you can afford to live in Anne Rice’s mansion, Stephen King’s gothic estate, or give the forever waving and REAL jobless Queen of England a run for her pound Sterling by being “Harry Potter’s” multimillion, writing mum.
And, probably, even then, you’ll have to tell yourself—until you believe it, too, and then some—that sitting on your bum, writing “little stories,” especially “little, romantic and erotic stories” IS REAL. And a guilt-free occupation.
That it’s more than okay.
That it’s really a breath of air filling your lungs, and a thing that keeps you sane.
Or, maybe, that’s just me.
And what does this have to do with Keanu...? http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-guilty-romances-with-keanu-reeves.html
Labels: erotic, fiction, keanu reeves, lisabet, romantic, sarai, stories, writing
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Source: Reuters
