I went for a nice walk to clear my head this morning, ears filled with Itunes shuffle and a smile on my face.
It’s a nice little circuit round the village, with a couple of slight hills help to put the load on. It always helps the ideas to flow. I just hope no-one saw me dancing and singing along to Boogie Wonderland as I turned into my road!
I was musing on what it has been like growing up with all the changes I’ve been through. When I got in I dug out my old school reports. I went back to 1989 and read about a helpful and willing girl in tune with the needs of others who in the last 25 years really hasn’t changed an awful lot.
I’m still easily distracted. I still daydream too much. I still talk too much but I have learned to listen more. I still try to help people whenever I can. I still find creative writing easy and have a head full of ideas. I still have an inquisitive mind and love to learn about new things. I still hate maths.
One thing that stood out throughout all my school reports, lack of self-confidence and spending too much time keeping myself to myself. It’s not that I don’t like interacting with people, I do. Anyone who knows me will tell you I can carry a conversation with anyone.
I just find it hard to let people in and see the real me. I lost the most important person in my life when I was 7 years old. The little brother I had always dreamed of having. I never got over it.
I get scared that if I let people in and they see the real me they will leave and there is nothing more painful than losing people you care for. In all honesty apart from a few people I can rely on it has happened to me quite often.
I’ve let people in and trusted them, only for them to start to see the real me and leave. Then I have to rebuild myself all over again. I just don’t have any energy for that anymore.
I feel like I’ve been neglecting this blog lately. In some ways I have so here’s the reason why.
I was dared to enter an erotic fiction writing competition and I won. They asked me for more stories so I have been working on that.
I created a new writing persona and I’ve been building my profile and readership while the interest is still hot.
Things are moving really quickly with it and I’m really enjoying it. I enjoy it because it comes from the part of me that hasn’t changed. The part of me that loves to laugh and act like a fool and doesn’t care what people thinks about her. The pure hearted helpful girl my school reports refer to.
I was talking to someone a while ago when I was in a low place about the fact I sometimes need a hardarse to snap me out of my slumps. Among other things they told me I could be as successful as I wanted if I just believed it and I would see things start to happen and change. Then they filled my head with positivity and told me to get some sleep.
After that I picked a pen name, cleared my head and wrote. I cut off my feelings and wrote from a different place. I wrote from my pure untouched imagination.
People have told me how much they love my stories and how realistic they are. I don’t understand where the ideas come from but when I’m writing them I feel every emotion and action as if it were actually happening to me.
My friend laughed and told me I finally found my calling. I was born to be an Erotic Fiction Writer; apparently. Anyone who knows me would never believe me capable of it.
You see I don’t talk about sex, I get embarrassed. I usually just awkwardly laugh along or avoid it when people talk about it. I always have.
Yet I can sit in front of a blank screen and the words will just pour out of me. I sit and read them back and wonder where they came from. I still can’t believe it’s me writing them.
As I was walking I realised they came from the safe place I hide inside me. The part I hide from everyone else so it doesn’t get corrupted with the hurt the rest of my life is filled with.
I drove away someone I considered to be a good friend with my insecurity. In the end they didn’t have the energy to keep trying. I can’t blame them for that. They made the choice to put them-self first. In doing so they became another regret in a long line of things I got wrong and can’t change. They will be the last one.
I’m worried that in letting my pure side out into the world I will lose the last part of me that hasn’t been hurt by life. But I choose to be confident in it. I choose to trust it.
I told my friend that it confuses me where the erotic writing comes from and I don’t understand how I feel it so completely when I’m writing it. She couldn’t explain it either.
She is my rock, completely supportive of my writing and inspirational as both a friend and a woman who got her shit together and decided to kick the worlds arse.
There are two people who inspired me to write the erotic stories. My friend who dared me to explore a side of life I never gave much thought and a male friend who became important to me. Without them I wouldn’t have found my calling.
I was telling my friend the other night I wanted to branch out into selling my work, I’m currently posting it for free. We agreed that 10 stories would be a good length for an anthology and I have published 9 so far with another 4 in an ideas board along with a novel idea and a story I’m working on for an erotic writers anthology due out later this year.
I said I have no idea how to create a cover for the book to make it stand out. I do creative writing but I have no design skills. “Don’t worry” she says, I know someone to ask. So that was our plan. One more story and we publish an anthology! Exciting stuff.
I woke up yesterday and decided to email a publisher and ask if they were interested in publishing the anthology of my stories. Every writing book tells you this is not the way to go. But if it works out I don’t need to worry about the book cover design, win!
I had a smile on my face as I wrote about the people who’ve read my work, well over 20,000 on one site alone. My blog and the fact that my work will feature in a podcast and that I’ve been picked up as a featured author on a couple of sites.
I even created a website this week to showcase my writing. Which was a learning curve. I had previously avoided doing it as I had no idea what I was doing but thanks to Writing Magazine I found a ‘how to’ article comparing free sites and muddled along.
I lost internet at home and had to go to the library to use theirs to prepare for a job interview last week. I sat in the library updating my erotic Twitter page and creating a Facebook page and I felt excited. People were working all around me and any one of them could have seen what I was working on.
My friend has now informed me I’ve become ‘that woman’. The one who has a secret identity that really she wants everyone to find out about because getting caught is part of the fun. I’m worried she maybe right 😉
A lot has happened in my life since April. Which is the sub total of time I’ve been an erotic fiction writer, 3 months!
I’ve been writing non-erotic fiction and children’s stories for 5 years and not had anything like this kind of success. One of my children’s stories made it to the last 250 out of 2500 entries but I don’t know how high in that it placed.
I’m proud of both of my writing profiles and I won’t be ignoring this and focusing solely on my secret life. I will still work on getting the final edit of my novel complete and sending it out to agents as I planned. In fact I’m not allowing myself to write the erotic fiction novel until I have!
So there you have it. The girl who writes about her feelings too much, cares too deeply about people causing them to push her away and who suffers from depression at times is really a closet semi-successful erotic fiction author! It felt good to say that!
There are 4 people in the world who know the real me and that I am behind those stories. My two oldest friends and the two people who inspired me to write them.
Who knows maybe one day the face that I have given to the writing will be mine and people will know the real name behind it. But for now I’m enjoying the excitement of the secret identity.
The part of me that writes that work, the confident part I hide away is enjoying being in charge for a while. It’s nice to be the confident person who doesn’t care what people think about them, and does their own thing again. People tend to look down on you for being an individual as you get older.
You know what? I’ve had plenty of people all through my life tell me I can’t do things, mostly my Dad and my family. If they knew about my writing they would be horrified, so right now they are one of the reasons I hide it.
So please tell me I can’t do something and I’m not good enough. I’ve heard it all before.
I’ve been wrongly judged by people as not good enough for their time and been thrown away.
I’ve loved and cared for people with all my heart and lost them.
I’ve been depressed and beaten it.
I’ve been loved and enjoyed it.
I’ve been both good and bad and thoroughly enjoyed it 😉
I’ve tried harder to make things work that most people would when its something I’ve really believed in.
I’ve made mistakes but I’m not afraid of admitting it or too proud to try and put things right.
I’m not perfect, but who is?
Tell me I’m not good enough and I’ll show you that you didn’t know me at all. You chose not to see the real me, and that is your loss, because I was good enough.
I’m not embarrassed by who I am. I’m a good person. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not.
I willingly give my time and effort to others to help them achieve their potential. I’m not going to stop or change that for anyone.
I’m happy with who I am and I’m proud of what I have achieved.
Parts of my life have been really hard, other people would have given up. I never did, no matter how hard it got.
So yeah, life has given me scars that make it hard for me to stay happy all the time. It takes a lot of my energy to fight them, I don’t always win, sometimes I need patience but I never give up.
I have no idea where this journey ends but it only goes forward from here.