Earlier this week, I posted something on my personal Facebook about following/liking a page because the book series just gobsmacked my mind into a total meltdown. It's an erotica series about- GAY MERMEN. Please do not take that as a bad thing!! (Honestly, I haven't read the books yet, so I'm not qualified to review.) It's the fact that it's about GAY MERMEN. I can't even wrap my mind around the logistics of how to write that. I mean- is it fish-based genitalia or is there transformation involved? Do other mermen sic their pet sharks on them if they see them swimming along the reef hand in hand? Is it a secret society shrouded in mystery and hidden deep in the Mariannas Trench, only accessible by initiation? The sheer scope of the imagination involved in creating the basis for this series made me feel woefully inadequate. And yes, I want to read the books- I just don't have the time right now!
However, that does not end my mind-expansion for the week- not by a long shot. Somehow, on Twitter, I have managed to follow what appears to be a online 50 Shades of Grey roleplay. Which is apparently a polygamist?polyamorous? situation with Ana directing the vagina traffic in and out of Christian's life/bed. And I think there are imaginary babies involved. I haven't seen any mention of other males as of yet, so it's entirely possible that this imaginary Christian is getting more play than my mom's old vinyl albums- which is saying something.
All of this, coupled with my current situation of having to rewrite a LARGE portion of American Baby (which sadly, I have finally admitted is going to take me longer than a couple of weeks- so AB will be pushed back for a Valentine's Day special) and working on other projects has made me realize that maybe I'm stuck in a rut. Most of my work falls into one of two categories- light-hearted, slightly improbable romance situations where the heroine is kind of stupid about men and the guy is just trying to do the right thing (in a clueless manner, granted) or pretty damn dark. Dark as in deep, deep black and blue with that really interesting eggplant color you get around the edges of a really bad bruise that lets you know just how bad it's going to be. There's some stuff that sort of straddles the middle line, but for the most part I'm at the ends of the pendulum swing. And that's not a bad thing.
However, I need to branch out and start pushing my mind a little bit more. I've set myself a minor goal- ten stories. Short, one-off stories that can be about anything- a picture, a pretty tree in the backyard, an overheard conversation snippet. I used to force myself to do these stories when I was younger and fighting severe depression and writer's block. Sometimes it worked- Happenstance is one of those pieces, as a matter of fact- and sometimes it didn't. But for this exercise, I'm trying to write 10 short stories, in any length from flash fiction to novella, in 10 days. I may end up failing- in which case I invite everyone to ridicule me. I may end up succeeding- you'll know for sure when I start promoting them if that's the case ;) Either way, I'm hoping to push and expand my brain and see if I can start embracing some of the stuff between horror and fluff.
Today's prompt:
The spoon plopped back into my cup, splashing coffee over the sides and leaving three perfectly round spots of superheated failure in my sugar bowl.
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