My wife hates to drive. I mean, she REALLY hates to drive. I am the exact opposite when it comes to highway driving. Give me an open road and the right music and I will be a happy camper. This weekend I had to drive for about 7 to 8 hours to get to my sister’s. for fun, I drove us 2 hours to Wilmington and then 2 hours back. Then I had an 8 hour drive through Easter traffic.
It may alarm my passengers if they knew that I pretty much go into a reactive trance while driving. I watch the surrounding traffic, my speed and follow the flow. My brain shuts down higher functions and I let my mind drift. Sometimes I think about stories I am working on now but mostly I just relax. Away from a computer and away from a notebook, I can’t really do anything with my thoughts. It is the closest thing I get to a vacation as a writer.
I do think about blowjobs. I think about how it has been too long since I have written about the joy of releasing into a willing mouth.
I also think about trailer parks and how they would be a great environment for a different kind of BDSM story. I have had this idea for about 5 years now. Maybe I should do something with it. I always picture a naked woman pushing a lawnmower while an older couple watch from the porch.
I think about music. When I listened music on cassettes, I envisioned music coming from a black place. As if there was some sort of void of nothing that gave birth to guitars, pianos and lyrics. I wonder about that void now.
At a public rest stop, the sign says ‘Pets on Leashes Only’. I think of a submissive I knew who played as a cat. I picture taking her out of the car, naked and on a leash. I imagine how shocked the people here would be.
We pass old tobacco shacks. These ancient sheds are covered in vines, moss and grass. They also lean at impossible angles on the verge of collapse. The only thing holding them up must be the dread monsters inside them.
I wonder about Jimmy Varn and what traffic is like on the interstate when zombies run the world. I hope he found more cookies.
Now I am home. The routine of my day rubs away at my driving thoughts. I think about deadlines. I think about work. I think about bills.
I decide instead to write.
4 Responses to “Travelling is a Writer’s Friend”
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I always think BDSM-ly when I see the pets on leash sign:)
Wilmington is lovely, I spent a lot of my youth there (and was born there). One of these days I hope to get there again.
I read an interesting book that addresses that phenomenon that happens when you’re driving, particularly highway driving,and how it frees up the creative parts of the brain, since they aren’t really needed for that sort of thing. I always used to get my best ideas while driving, and for a while I had a tape recorder in my car. Then I realized that speaking my erotic ideas aloud made me uncomfortable;)
Wilmington was quite lovely. We toured the Battleship and the waterfront. I had a pretty awesome helping of cheese grits.
I completely beleive the bit about driving. I was surprised by how hard it was for me to have a conversation after driving because my mind was in complete tangent mode lol.
One thing I miss about living outside the South is properly prepared cheese grits. Well, most of what I miss is food-related.
When I was a kid, I used to get in the turrets on the Battleship and shoot the waterfont. There’s a sound and light show in the summer, that’s neat, as well.
I miss the beach. (yeah, not-food related, there;)
Personally I don’t think you have officially had a childhood in NC unless you sat in one of the turrets on the battleship lol.
My major goal when I went to NC was to get a cheesesteak and Orange-Aid from an Andy’s. Once I had it, I was done visiting lol.