This weekend I spent most of my time writing technical documents for work. That’s right, I finally get my dream weekend where I can write from sunrise to sunset and I can’t share a scrap of it with you.
The weird thing about technical writing is that you have clear goals of information that need to be conveyed, but creativity is frowned upon like a corset with Velcro. I do manage to amuse myself when I get to write examples but its not the same as writing say, a giant housewife orgy/book club. No matter how cool the example, it’s just not that fun.
I also find my writing in a bit of flux lately anyway. The anniversary of New Orleans’ destruction at the hands of Katrina and FEMA has reminded me of how we treat our poor in this nation. I’ve been reading and watching far too many articles on the subject. It is astonishing to me the huge gap between the Haves and the Have-Nots. It makes me ashamed that a ten year old murder of a white child beauty queen is considered breaking news and we don’t have entire teams of reporters deconstructing the tragedies of Katrina.
In a strange way, I find myself still mourning the effects of Katrina. I mourn the loss of life that could have been prevented. I mourn the suffering of the people who were trapped in a flooding city. I mourn the lack of leadership that tried to first deny the event and then tried to fix it with photo-ops. I mourn the degradation of a nation that cannot even discuss the event without trying to score political points. To me Katrina showed how we failed as a nation to care for the weakest among us. I want everyone held accountable and I want to see some fucking remorse.
I suspect that with these emotions, I will resume writing erotica fairly soon. Erotica is an escape hatch for me. Sex is one of those things that makes life worth living and there are days when erotica is simply a celebration of being here. I write because I can and the worlds I make up have to be better than the one we are living in.