Thursday, March 8, 2012

Smut in a Rut.

Oh, goodness.

I'm the friend that people always say "get your mind out of the gutter!!!" or who just look at me after an inappropriate comment and burst into laughter. and flames. Sometimes flames happen. I can't help it, hell follows me around some days.

So a couple of days ago, I told you all about my ambition to become a professional, full-time smut writer. I mean, why they hell not? It's always worth a go. So I was all set with my leggy wine and mac, propped up on a dining table that manfriend and I purchased a year and a half ago from Ikea but have never once sat down to eat at it, and I started typing the story. I got a few chapters in and then I hit the problem: do I go for plot, or straight for sex? I mean, people buy this type of novella for the purpose of getting off.

Then it occurred to me, writing smut is like being a college sophomore again to me. Am I going out this weekend to find a boyfriend or going out to get laid? I would ask myself as I stared vacantly into my closet. After choosing between sexy-librarian, sexy-preppy or slut-sexy, I would cram my face into about 5lbs of make up and my friends and I would talk about how wasted we were going to get that night.  This is the part I should most definitely add-in: I am not exactly proud of how my extracurricular social activities played out in college. I should also add that I managed to maintain a GPA of 3.5 while in the honors program and involved in multiple campus activities. I wasn't a complete woo-girl, but I most certainly had my moments. I won't apologize for the fun I had or the friends I made in a four year-period.

Either way, my smut is becoming my Friday night tango with the closet: do I aim for the boyfriend (plot-line, limited sex) or just jump to the bone-jumping and go for it?


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