Sorry about the title. I truly suck at them; just ask my editors over the years. While waiting to fall asleep last night, I convinced myself that I'd come up with a great topic for my blog, but after reading several that came before, my idea lacks a certain heat or energy. It's not specific to erotica which is what Aphrodisia is about. Just the same, I'm going to stick with what I came up with because I've convinced myself that people (at least a few) care what goes on behind the scenes in a writer's life--not the actual writing (especially erotica) but the whole balance thing. So here's the deal. I've been writing since shortly after the first ice age which means I have a lot of experience or something under my belt. When the writing bug first hit, my sons were babies. I'm not crazy about admitting this, but I sometimes resented the time and emotional energy motherhood took away from the creative process. I WANTED TO WRITE, WANTED TO WRITE, DAMN IT! But as all parents know, children need a certain amount of love and attention and have their ways of getting it. Then they hit school age and suddenly I was handed what felt like vast amounts of time to myself, and I made the best of it. I became a writing machine, and my production reflected that. Maybe I've mellowed, maybe I'm just getting old and lazy. Whatever the reason, I've learned to embrace whichever hat I'm wearing at the time. Case in point. Last night I had 12 people at the house for a family get-together and enjoyed every moment of it. My nephew's wife asked, as she always does, about my writing. I responded only briefly because last night was about her, her husband, and their growing children. Writing is what I did earlier that day when I had my office to myself, (and no, I didn't tell her about the foreplay I'd written) but I'd switched off that part of my brain and wanted to focus on where those beautiful children were in their development, how much they'd grown and changed in the year since I'd seen them. I also wanted to observe the interaction between my sons who'd recently had to resolve a conflict. My mind was filled with processing a multitude of family dynamics, observing and recording. This was real life, developing personalities, husband/wife communication, three generations each with their own place in the march of time. And at the end of it when my brain was shutting down, I acknowledged that the evening had enriched me as a writer in vital ways. I might not be aware of what specific observations I'm drawing on when I'm writing, but in subtle or maybe not so subtle ways, my characters will be full-bodied because I lived in the moment last night. Even if I'm writing hot and heavy sex, my hero and heroine will or should be complex human beings because I was privy to the human animal from ages 5 through 70. This morning I'm refreshed and renewed. The creative well is fuller than it was 48 hours ago. Thank you life. Vonna Harper
Posted by Vonna Harper ::
11:07 AM ::
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