#NaNoWriMo2018 Day 24: Writing filth

I was talking to my friend Ally last week after a month of noncommunication thanks to our busy schedules. She asked how the writing was going, and I honestly told her that my NaNoWriMo projects is now just a collection of episodic scenes featuring my main characters. I’m hoping that I can stitch them together like patches into a quilt later when it’s time to make Nobody’s Hero a real book.

She told me that she’d let me go so I could either write or sleep — she’s on the West Coast, so by the time we had gotten to this point in our conversation, it was almost 11 p.m. my time.

“Yeah, I’ll probably write,” I said. “Not sure what, so it’ll probably be some kind of sex scene.” 

She started laughing when I explained that my writer’s block is usually cured by writing a one-off piece of filth (if you’ll excuse the old-fashioned term for healthy eroticism).

“So at this point, this entire book is going to be filth.”

I have two friends who are published erotica authors, and I give them all the credit in the world for it. First off, they had the guts to self-publish. For another, they were able to turn those silky pieces of “easy” writing (at least for me) into a slinky dress of a book that keeps the royalty checks pouring in.

Meanwhile, here’s what I wrote that night after hanging up from my call with Ally:


He made good on his promise to give her something to blush about the next day, but it wasn’t necessarily for the reason she had hoped. The night before had been one of both self-abandonment and self-consciousness. At one point he had bound her wrists to the bedframe with his tie, but no matter how tantalizing his lips were against her stomach and — other places — all she could think about was whether her deodorant had held up.”

 It’s definitely not the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written (a post-college long-distance relationship built on Skype conversations helped hone my smut-smithing skills), but it’s indicative of the character I’m developing. After all, we rarely abandon who we are deep down when we get into bed.

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Vignette: In search of an idea

My left shoe’s heel is worn down to the nail. Now when I take a step just the wrong way, the even click-clack-click-clack that usually accompanies my gait turns into a click-clack-tonk-clack-click-clack-plink-clack, and I’m reminded how much tile is in this office every time I walk down the hall to an uneven backbeat.
But sitting at my desk is hardly an option, because even though the click-clack-click-clack of the keys beneath my fingers remains consistent, the ideas they’re spelling out go click-clack-click-clack-plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk as I type and backspace, type and backspace. “Write something fresh,” I tell my fingers, but they don’t want to cooperate.
They’re not sure whether too many people have written about the way Christopher Nolan’s characters tend to die midsentence, like Maggie Gyllenhaal’s “Harvey, listen to me, some–” BOOM. Or in the middle of Matt Damon’s villain monologue blocking out Matthew McConaughey’s warning not to BOOM. Or Ellen Paige being slammed by flying café debris while asking Leo DiCaprio why, if this is a dream, they BOOM. And they know too many people have pointed out the director’s fascination with dead or murdered wives, despite his own spouse being his producing partner on every project.
So instead they try to remember the typing patterns that wrote the letter to Pixar asking if Bonnie in Toy Story 3 was supposed to be an older version of Boo in Monsters, Inc., long before a more developed “Pixar universe theory” surfaced online.
They try to replicate how they wrote about the parallels between the Republican National Convention in July and the plot of Space Jam.
They rack their fingertips against the desk, wondering what click-clacking had at one time composed 2,000 words under the title “Bang Bang: The Sexuality of Gun-Slinging, Sword-Fighting Women of Bonnie and Clyde, Thelma and Louise and Kill Bill.”
They even tried to replicate the exact path they took across the keyboard when crash-typing the social and political messages behind the hero flying a nuclear bomb away from civilians in the finales of two of 2012’s most successful films, Avengers Assemble and The Dark Knight Rises.
But the choreography is gone from their memory, and the dance steps are out of practice, so all they can do is replicate the sound of my shoes in the hall. Click-clack-tonk-clack-plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk-click-clack-click-clack.