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Lusty Lady

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Sunday, September 02, 2012

Hello, September!

I'm waiting for the coffee cake my boyfriend and I baked to cool; yesterday we made blueberry muffins and he said, "This recipe is your kind of recipe," because you're supposed to serve them immediately. Waiting half an hour is not my speed, but I'm working on it.

I was going to post about all the travails of August, which had some fun moments but also had mean girls and missed flights and cancelled writing workshops (okay, really one of each, but it sounds better in plural) but I'm more focused on August, on the calm of baking, on finally going to DC next weekend, then Long Beach the next, then Dubai the next, of the books I'm reading and the one I'm re-reading, on wrapping up some book projects and brainstorming a big new one. On figuring out if I can afford my therapist, whose sessions I've greatly missed and am finding help me in infinite ways. I can't say anything about that one yet lest I jinx it, but I think I've been struggling with "my place" in the world of freelancing and writing/editing generally. I love that I have a name of sorts in the world of sex/erotic writing, and I don't want the universe at all to think I'm begrudging that. It's not only how I make my living but one thing I know I'm good at.

At the same time, I don't want to be boxed in and seen as "only" a sex or erotica writer. That wouldn't be worth it in any way. I want to write about politics and food and fandom and theater and travel as well as Fifty Shades of Grey. Of course, no one is stopping me. I have a journal, I have a blog, but I meant, get paid to write about those topics. I am trying to figure out that balance, to learn from those who do it all successfully, to make my life work in the ways I need it to. I also will probably always write about, well, me. It helps, it's cathartic, and sometimes writing is the only thing that works. So we'll see. I feel like anything could happen, and if I learned anything from the awful parts of August, it's that I can't predict even one minute from now, let alone one day or one week. I hope I get to go to all the places I want to. I hope the pieces I have floating out there in the editorial ether find their way to a happy home. I hope a lot of things, but I also know I have to sit, here, now, waiting, working, one word at a time, and that there's a hell of a lot of luck involved in anything that may or may not happen. I'm trying to wean myself a bit off social media, and will not be turning my phone on in Dubai lest a repeat of London's outrageous iPhone bill occur. I am antsy to get ready for that trip, but that is several weeks away. Before then, there are pieces to file and pitches to pitch and cakes to bake.


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