Today is 21617.
I woke up today, then was still tired, so I crashed for another hour. What ACTUALLY ended up happening is that I began thinking about my next scene. I kept myself up, and got so excited that I decided to just write it instead of driving myself crazy with things I may or may not have remembered later.
It’s always strange to me how much trouble I have writing sex scenes. I write erotica with no problem. But I think it may be because a short piece of erotica is just a simple vignette. The tough part is creating that vignette as part of a larger story, where personalities and personal history are invoked.
It’s kind of funny, because I find the same in my play. I found it really easy to be casual and have little meaningless encounters, because I didn’t really have to put much of myself into them. It’s sex inside a relationship that sometimes baffles me. It gains so much more meaning and is so much more emotionally charged, that I just don’t know how to deal with it.
At any rate, in this scene, Vine is confronted with her need to be desired. It’s something that’s hugely personal for me, and hearkens back to a really dark time that I don’t like to think about. However, it’s very important in this part of the story, so I need to just suck it up and write it.