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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1p7ZwsP:
I should go to bed, I am sleepy, but instead I really want to sit and write, because I am slogging through the climax of The Novel Nobody Asked For, and it is grim as fuck and unrelenting.
And today I awkwardly realized I could actually plausibly write horribadwrong Poe/Phasma smut if I squinted. Not within the context of the Novel, mind, but over in the side Poe/Hux thing I’ve been messing with.
And that would be hilarious. And maybe that would be too much of my id, you know?
That’s the thing– I write a lot of porn, and some of it is porn I find hot, but a great deal of it actually really isn’t? I mean, I’m super into these characters and what they do, but I’m not like– invested-invested? It’s not that I don’t write about stuff that gets me hot under the collar or whatever garment, you know– but that’s not exactly the point of it, for me. A lot of the kinks and whatnot, the things that really rev the motors in-POV and all– those aren’t things I particularly enjoy! (Like, hairpulling. No thanks. BUT. One time a really hot lady brushed my hair and it made me tingle all over. And it was mostly that she was taking care of me and it was sweet, but it was also that she had basically no shirt on and was probably the hottest human being I’ve ever spoken to directly? I kept shivering and she totally knew what was up. It’s not my thing but I get it, my friends. I get it. She was like, oh, the tangles must be pulling and I was like baby it is fine just do until you’re done.)
I dunno, I almost feel protective of my weird pantsfeelings about Gwendoline Christie and my newfound Thing about Short Dudes. They’re still not at all real-lifey, but, ???
The most hilarious thing about all of this is that IRL I am monogamous with a fairly hot dude who vaguely resembles Domhnall Gleeson, in that he is six-three and has a twenty-four-inch waist (I might be exaggerating but he’s pretty, uh, attenuated of figure; he was 135lb when we met and can’t be much over 160 now) and a blond mane and green eyes. Like, if anyone was going to accuse me of having a physical type it would not be short dudes.
I should be in bed with him, but I really just want to write a thing and get something done, you know?
I just, y’know, I gotta buckle down and soldier through the Grim Finale because it’s not that grim, I swear, ugh. There are only like– three sex scenes in this whole novel though. I need to do a Porny Epilogue. It’s imperative.
I should go to bed, I am sleepy, but instead I really want to sit and write, because I am slogging through the climax of The Novel Nobody Asked For, and it is grim as fuck and unrelenting.
And today I awkwardly realized I could actually plausibly write horribadwrong Poe/Phasma smut if I squinted. Not within the context of the Novel, mind, but over in the side Poe/Hux thing I’ve been messing with.
And that would be hilarious. And maybe that would be too much of my id, you know?
That’s the thing– I write a lot of porn, and some of it is porn I find hot, but a great deal of it actually really isn’t? I mean, I’m super into these characters and what they do, but I’m not like– invested-invested? It’s not that I don’t write about stuff that gets me hot under the collar or whatever garment, you know– but that’s not exactly the point of it, for me. A lot of the kinks and whatnot, the things that really rev the motors in-POV and all– those aren’t things I particularly enjoy! (Like, hairpulling. No thanks. BUT. One time a really hot lady brushed my hair and it made me tingle all over. And it was mostly that she was taking care of me and it was sweet, but it was also that she had basically no shirt on and was probably the hottest human being I’ve ever spoken to directly? I kept shivering and she totally knew what was up. It’s not my thing but I get it, my friends. I get it. She was like, oh, the tangles must be pulling and I was like baby it is fine just do until you’re done.)
I dunno, I almost feel protective of my weird pantsfeelings about Gwendoline Christie and my newfound Thing about Short Dudes. They’re still not at all real-lifey, but, ???
The most hilarious thing about all of this is that IRL I am monogamous with a fairly hot dude who vaguely resembles Domhnall Gleeson, in that he is six-three and has a twenty-four-inch waist (I might be exaggerating but he’s pretty, uh, attenuated of figure; he was 135lb when we met and can’t be much over 160 now) and a blond mane and green eyes. Like, if anyone was going to accuse me of having a physical type it would not be short dudes.
I should be in bed with him, but I really just want to write a thing and get something done, you know?
I just, y’know, I gotta buckle down and soldier through the Grim Finale because it’s not that grim, I swear, ugh. There are only like– three sex scenes in this whole novel though. I need to do a Porny Epilogue. It’s imperative.
