SCARY WRITING (wicked wednesday)

I’d never written anything before I started all this nonsense. Well obviously that’s not exactly true, but I had never done any ‘creative’ writing. It was all business writing and, in the early part of my career, tenders for contracts. True enough, they used to get me to write the executive summary, the bit where you have to explain why the Government customer should spend his $30m with you rather than with another company; the bit where you have to boil 5 thick volumes down to five slim paragraphs. I was good at it. I guess there might be something in that.

No creative writing though; no description, metaphor or emotion.

And yet here I am; over 350 posts and still going.

I’ve written before about how this blog started as a way to process the complex emotions triggered by the extreme experiences I was exposing myself to; a way to prolong my necessarily short session with a Mistress for days, even weeks, afterwards. It has become so much more than that.

It’s become the foundation of a network of people, some of them now ‘real life’ friends, who either do what I do or find what I do interesting. The more they take an interest in these things, the more I am able to accept this part of me and integrate it into my understanding of myself.

But the act of writing still scares me.

A lot of what I do here is to take something that’s outrageously hot to me and try and make it outrageously hot to other people. On the surface, that shouldn’t be a huge challenge. But I realised early on, that to be properly hot, to really engage people, it’s not enough to say: “She hit me with this, then squeezed my nipples, then she hit me with that.” I found myself picking a moment in a session and looking at it from different angles: what I was feeling, what she was feeling, how the connection between us seemed. I played with different ways to get it all across. Early on, I wrote a piece abut a caning, where the story ended just before the first blow was struck. It seemed really bold and adventurous to do that! I’m less scared of this type of writing now.

I played with fiction. Most of my fiction is either a session in my head that I have yet to play out, or a scene that I’m familiar with into which I have parachuted some kink. I still find fiction a bit scary.

More recently, I’ve been writing about deeply personal things, examining my upbringing, my relationships, my own character. I’ve been questioning what I do, the nature of a meeting with a sex worker and the moral and emotional complexities of that liaison. This is all still very, very new to me and those close to me would, I think, be more surprised by this self-examination than by my kinky predilections.

These emotional, personal posts are the really scary ones, partly because of the subject matter and partly for the writing itself. I’m constantly asking myself what a ‘proper’ writer would think: “Is this sentence structured properly? Is that repetition just a beginners mistake? How would a ‘proper’ writer express these feelings?”

However, I am starting to accept that at least some of the writing might be OK.

More importantly, it has become part of me. If something went wrong, the wrong person discovered it, say, and I had to close the blog down, I would feel wounded; I’d feel wounded like something had been cut off. There’s so much of me in these posts, so many discoveries, so many adventures, so much growth.

I just don’t want to lose it.

So I’m going to try and stop that happening.

I’m going to try and turn it into a bloody book!

And that very idea is way more scary even than the actual writing.

 

More Wednesday wickedness on the theme of writing here: