This morning, just before I woke, I dreamed that I was in a small grocery store, looking in the freezer case. I found a package of hot dogs called BROKEN FINGERS. It had a picture of my book on the front. I was very excited and posed with the small weiners. HAHA! Okay, that was better than the dream I had a few nights ago about gay Spanish dancers on a TV show whose outfits exposed them rather inappropriately! Or the one in which someoned to tried to stab me in the heart (he only bruised me — don’t think I can’t read the exact interpretation of THAT dream)!
I haven’t started writing BLACKBIRD just yet, but I intend to, soon. I don’t intend to rush it, though. I planned to “relax” this summer and dangit, I’m gonna. Though relaxing seems to mean running around like a crazy person.
I was going to write a whole entry about how writing erotica is not a reason to behave without class or taste in public, but hey, you know what? What I consider classy and tasteful might be someone else’s wild and outrageous, so I guess what I consider tacky and distasteful could be someone else’s classy and tasteful.
And I just wrote a whole ‘nother bunch of stuff about it, but meh…I have other things I have to do right now.
Just because you write erotica doesn’t mean the world needs to know every detail of your sex private life, that’s all I’m saying. And the internet IS the world.
M
