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var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker(“UA-9168462-2”);
} catch(err) {}I haven’t been posting much…And that’s by design. It’s not a knock to you guys but I’m trying to experience real life and real people a lot more often b/c I find that writing is isolating enough as it is without limiting yourself to only interacting with people online. Not to mention that by venturing out I have found more things to write about which is always good.

I’m taking a few writing courses online. I don’t know how much they will improve my writing but it feels good to have a bit of structure, you know. I was spending too much time floundering and flitting from one project to another. The classes have given me some objective and structure which I desperately needed. I also joined a writing workshop and a writers group. The workshop is great but the writers group is a source of weekly irritation. So much so that I was beginning to wonder whether it’s worth the time I make for it. And when I same MAKE time, that’s what I mean. I don’t have much time of my own and that hour a week could be spent doing other things besides being silently ridiculed by pompous writers who think that writing smut or romance or anything that involves the human condition (outside of angst and depression that is) is a worthless venture that is overdone and quite frankly boring. What makes people this way? Are they just uptight? Do those dirty words that I finally fill brave enough to write and now read in front of a room make them uncomfortable? Am I touching a nerve? Am I speaking to that dirty little man/ woman that lives in the dark recesses of your brain that you keep denying? A wise man once said to me that I shouldn’t deny myself anything. He said that life was too short to feel miserable or unfulfilled. He said, in prose that vividly echoes Ayn Rand, that it was important to practice the art of selfishness. At the time I was hesitant to agree with him because I thought meeting my obligations was more important than getting or doing what I want. Somewhere along the way I changed my mind. Bit by bit I learned to accept that it was perfectly okay to be selfish. Being selfish doesn’t mean being cruel and mean to the ones you love, it just means that you put yourself first. So that’s what I’ve been doing and will continue to do. So even though, I hear groans and sighs of irritation or displeasure when I stand to read my bit of smut to this group of uptight, conservatives, with their boring sexless relationships; I will proudly enunciate the words cock and pussy. I will hit the ‘k’s’ hard with my New Jersey accent. I will draw out the ‘s’s’ out long until they slither into their into their consciousness. Why? Because I know it makes them uncomfortable and something in me takes pleasure in that.

6 Replies to “So…”

  1. Hey, good for you Elle! Both for being selfish and for making them snobs uncomfortable. I once got a surprised reaction from reading one of my poems in open mike and it had the phrase “money shot” in it – hahahahahaha – guess some folks figured a fifty year old woman wouldn’t know what that was. 😉


  2. Just at the local community college, but I live in the bible belt in a REALLY conservative town. I’ve just finished both courses, they were satisfactory, however I would have loved more of a challenge. I’m considering something on the university level the next time around.


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