Gah! Tearing My Hair Out!

For those of you bemoaning my lack of presence here (or not) it’s not that I don’t like you (or love you), because I really do. I’m up to my eyeballs in work, and trying to get those damnedable first four or five chapters re-written.

I spent Monday and Tuesday of last week poring over the sentences, barely able to take anything out but adverbs. That’s because my protagonist is an intelligent person, but her brains have been reduced to ditziness after 20 odd years of marriage. It’s hard to convey those abstract qualities in few words.

Wednesday I came to my senses. Though I had eliminated 5K worth of adverbs and “thats” 170K words is about 50K too many. I took to the knife and wacked out entire chunks, paragraphs falling to the wayside willy and nilly.

Re-reading my weeding, I couldn’t make any sense of it.

I took a step back on Friday and Saturday due to nice weather. Since a week’s worth of rain was in the forecast, I had to get in grape vine pruning and raking during the two good days I had available.

By Saturday night, I was feeling quite irritated with the whole thing.  I really want to get my portion of the re-write completed by the end of May, and that’s going to be tough since 1. I’m a world class procrastinator and 2. I’m lazy. “Daunting” is not a strong enough adjective to describe this task.

In addition, there’s some truth to be said for the fact that writers are often weary of their work, especially during the re-write process. Then Saturday night, I had a dream about my book, which is good. I woke up at 3 a.m. and began to think.

Such a revelation means only one thing: I’m going to have to re-write the entire first 13 chapters from scratch, taking bits and pieces from the 50K or more words I have written to describe the first part of this journey.

So, if you’re wondering where I am, I’ll be up to my eyeballs in angst.

Oh, My God. This is My Book?

Thank you to BibioMom. Now I know the truth.

You’re Lolita!
by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn’t the best and you’re not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you’ve done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

My Book

A Reprise From Another Place ~ “Book Porn”

From somewhere else, at another time, when things were relatively happy and carefree. I took a trip down memory lane today. There’s really a book, and a review, but not really any porn.

All this talk about Book Porn had me scurrying to the shelf to dig out my favorite “book porn” of all time. This, dear readers, is anything written by Anais Nin.

I started reading Anais Nin back in the early 1980s. Even though much of her work was composed decades earlier, I felt a connection with the author. Reading her came at a time of my life when my world was in flux and I felt adrift.

Here are some notable quotes. Of course, they don’t mean as much without the context of the larger passage, but these words stand on their own.

She was an artist and writer and took her writing very seriously.

“If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.”

Her literary works were hopeful and vibrant.

“Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.”

I could almost see her grow with every entry in her journal.

“There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.”

Anais Nin was a strong and capable woman in an age when women were expected to be delicate flowers. Her ideas were way before their time.

“How wrong it is for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself.”

I love this, too. It is so me.

“There were always in me, two women at least,
one woman desperate and bewildered,
who felt she was drowning and another who
would leap into a scene, as upon a stage,
conceal her true emotions because they
were weaknesses, helplessness, despair,
and present to the world only a smile,
an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.”

Known mostly as a journal writer, bon vivant and artist, Anais Nin also penned alarmingly concise and beautiful erotica. This was because she was lacking funds, and the literary market was rather lucrative with regard to erotic genre. I find her erotica to be delicate and charming to the senses. The sex is real life, but told seductively. If you’re looking for the Penthouse Forum, and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am don’t even open these books.

Both Delta of Venus and Little Birds are still available in bookstores. If you care to sample, you can click here to find Anais Nin’s “Little Birds” in its entirety.