Have you ever had a really dark day? Where it feels like nothing ever goes your way? What do you do to ease the pain? What do you do to stay sane?
I’ll tell you what I do.
Unbelievably, these dark days are my most productive. The words just come flowing out my fingertips; there’s no stopping them from tap, tap, tapping away. And … why would I stop them? I NEED to get it out. It’s a release; a wordgasm of sorts for me. No, I don’t have a Dom standing over me yelling, “Don’t you dare! Don’t let those words come until I tell you to!” There’s no flogger or riding crop slapping against the fleshy parts of my body. So, I let ‘er rip!
By the end of the day, I’m a shaking, dripping, ball of heat. Does this Sound familiar to any of you who write? Well, maybe not exactly like that …
From what I’ve heard from some writer friends of mine, this is an occurrence that is coveted. It’s the moment your story starts writing itself, literally. I didn’t believe it could even happen until I wrote my very first erotic horror short story on a dare/suggestion from a really good friend of mine. Perhaps some of you know of him, Edward Lorn, the author of Bay’s End.
I asked him for a prompt because I was having one of those dark days and couldn’t move forward. All he had to say was, “You know that club scene in Blade? Bet you could come up with something. Maybe with demons …” Well, I immediately had an idea and ran with it.
It was like an out of body experience after all the lead in. I was there, in the dance club. Only my dance club was filled with demons that masqueraded as humans who also enjoyed a little BDSM.
The trance music that filled the cavernous club vibrated throughout my body; I was writhing along with the rest of them. I stood in the second level of hell alongside my main character, Jenna Prim, experiencing everything. It played out in my head as if I were watching a feature film. I was along for the ride.
And guess what? I’m still walking the Devil’s stairway. L’Escalier du Diable has become a living, breathing, entity that stands on its own cloven hooves. All this from one dark day …
When I read through what I’ve written, I can barely believe I wrote it. It’s as if I’ve been possessed; my muse has taken over and allowed me to spew my literary ‘pea soup’ onto the page. Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll be able to share L’Escalier du Diable with all of you. Now, to go jump into my dark, sadistic world.
“Follow me.” *Starts to walk down a roughly hewn stone stairway* “Don’t be afraid … you know you want to …” *turns around, eyes flash black* “Come, we won’t bite unless you ask for us to …” *sinister grin* “Soyez bienvenus à l’escalier du démon…où vous vivrez votre fantaisie pour toujours…”
Until next time …