Shop Talk

(This is a post about writing but "Shop Talk" might be a good porno story title: two bored workers at a hardware store and a handsome customer walks in...)

I'm not writing much and I blame the pandemic. In March a year ago I was fired up, writing a ton and fully inhabiting this forum, feeding off the energy of massive change. I'm kind of a slut, is the thing, so quarantine was a big shift for me. I channeled my sexual frustration into writing. 

Actually sexual frustration is what started me writing - I was a fifteen-year-old virgin, trapped in my own head. Me right now, vaccinated and monogamous for the past year - is as close as I've come to re-virginized than I've ever been or hope to be. But I'm over it, and now I'm starting to socialize again. Slowly. Small-ly. And most days the last thing I want to do is sit down by myself and delve into my sexual fantasies. I want life! I want experience! I want to be outside!

But, I'm a writer. And to honor that part of myself, which is a big part, I have to get some enjoyment out of writing. When I'm feeling uninspired I usually (in this order):

1) Commit to not-writing. Don't even think about it for a while. Live my life.

2) Commit to a daily practice, at the same time of day, where I create work that can just be bullshit, that doesn't have to be good. 

Committing to a scheduled, daily practice does two good things for me: it allows me to get some work done in a chunk and not think about it for the rest of the day, and I also begin to anticipate my daily writing time which fuels me having ideas.

That's where I'm at right now: writing on the daily, but not quite at the point where I'm producing stuff I feel is good enough to share. Thanks as always for supporting me. To the folks who've reached out regarding commissions: I'm sorry I haven't been able to give any energy to that, and I hope I will have that bandwidth soon.

I hope this post was somewhat interesting, but even if it wasn't I'll have more fuck fiction for ya next week. 

xoxoxo, 

Natty