So my writing station is haunted. I sat down to write this morning (the next Erotic Urban Legend story exclusively for my Patreon peeps, The Patchwork Girl), and I casually thought how warm it was. Half a second later the small desk fan that I have beside me turned on. 😳 Not joking. Anne freaked out; I shrugged. See, she’s scared by things like ghosts, while I, well… I don’t really believe in them in a Casper kind of way, but I do believe we all have energy, an essence, that doesn’t just vanish when we die. What form or sentience said energy takes when we pass is something I don’t attempt to even guess at. Much like religion, I’m blissfully ignorant. I also like to fuck with Anne, so I thanked the ghost out loud for “looking out” and high-fived the air, then started writing.
She was not amused.
I ended up knocking out the entire rough draft (no small feat) but flew way over my word count goal of 2,500 words. It’s almost at 5,000. Fuck it. Those motherfuckers deserve a longer story for putting up with my bougie ass. 😅
Now on to why my big brother is an asshole.
We threw him a birthday party a few days ago as some of you know, and I went all out trying to get everything perfect. I coordinated everyone’s gifts (keeping them low-priced like he demanded), made sure they were the kinds of things I knew he wanted/needed in his life. And at first, everything went perfectly.
But then he flipped the script.
He apparently bought me, Anne, and his ex-girlfriend expensive ass gifts, gifts that were way more expensive and thoughtful than we bought him (because he forbade us to spend too much money!), and gave them to us after the party. And each one of the gifts was ridiculously awesome. So the motherfucker one-upped us. Me. ME. And you know why he gave us said gifts? I quote: “You guys are the most important people in my life; my birthday is the best day to celebrate people like you. Because you make my life worth living.”
I swear if he weren’t my brother my panties would have dropped right then and there. 😅 Here’s what he ended up getting us:
- His exes gift: A motherfucking ring. With Diamonds. She ended up spending the night… 🤔
- Anne’s Gift: Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Complete Edition for her PS4, a game she has been lusting after forever. A game I’ve had on my computer via Steam and never once opened. She has yet to stop playing it.
- My Gift: AllCall W1 Bluetooth SmartWatch. 😳 Ever since Fitbit bought out Pebble and my Pebble Time Steel turned into a paperweight, I’ve been depressed. Especially with the missing voice functionality. My big brother knew this, and researched smartwatches. And this motherfucking watch here…just go check it out. Fucking amazing. I even joined a Google Plus group for it, ©Round Android Smartwatches, and started being an active member. It’s an amazing group, and they create some seriously cool watch faces. I have like 50 loaded on my watch right now. 😅 Websites like Watch Face UP don’t help…
Of course, I haven’t let my new watch stop me (completely) from writing. I finally managed to get Memoirs of a Nymphomaniac’s paperback version through Amazon’s draconian system, which took a lot longer than I thought it would, and a few other books by various pen names as well.
I also wrote Patreon about posting noods to my page for subscribers; I’m in talks with them now, but so far, it’s looking good. I’ll keep you motherfuckers updated.
Now a side note.
Some of you may have been wondering why I’m not writing my Diary entries every day like I used to. Well, when I was on Death’s door, I did a lot of thinking on the way I was managing my time. The conclusion I came to: quality, not quantity. I would rather do a really good post every few days than a bunch of mediocre ones. I like it so far. What do you guys think?
Before I go, I’m going to let you see some excellent questions that have floated my way these past few days, and my answers to them. You know, to kind of give you an insight into my twisted, maniacal mind. Here they be:
By the way, how did you get the idea to write these pieces of literary Art? ^-^
So flattering. Love it. Honestly, there is no real road or method – things just pop into my head at the strangest times. I can see something and my mind will just run rampant, or hear something that will spark an imaginative tango. A lot of times in the shower/bath things will just slide into my conscious unbidden, so I’ll mentally keep repeating these ideas until I get out and then quickly write them down. This happens almost every day. 😅
I write mainly for fun and to get things out of my head. My dream would be to supplement my retirement with income from writing full time. What finally inspired you to take the plunge? I’m happily envious of you.:)
Good question! The things that inspired me to take the plunge are 1) my passion for writing, and 2) the backlog of story ideas said passion was creating. They just kept piling up. One day I went through my computer, sifting through all the rough drafts and (in some cases) nearly finished stories and it dawned on me that I would never live long enough to tell all these tales that mean so much to me.
That’s what did it. I knew that before I died, I had to give birth to my babies.
So I put my head down, researched my little ass off about the business end of everything, figured out how to intelligently schedule my day, and went at it – fine-tuning every element of the process as I went. Something I’m still doing.
As always, thank you for reading.
“Sex is on the minds of most people, especially those who shouldn’t be having it.”
– William Glasser