Beliefs

I’ve been struggling to find something to write lately. Mainly this is because life has been happening to me at something of a rate of knots. And I don’t necessarily mean that in a dull ‘taking the cat to the vet and re-tiling the bathroom’ way (although I did have to use an outdoor toilet for the first time in years… but that’s a tale for a different time). Oh no, there were sexy and dramatic adventures involved. It’s just I can;t talk about it.

It’s a decision you have to make when writing a sex-themed blog as to how much of yourself you are ready to share and, put simply, my personal life for the most part doesn’t belong here. Hey, this is meant to be a marketing tool for selling more books right? (Have I mentioned lately, I sometimes write stories you know, stories you can buy and read!) There are wonderful courageous funny brilliant people out there who share a lot more than I do and I admire them for doing so. But that’s not me. Don’t get me wrong, what you see here will always and absolutely be a true reflection of me. But not all of me. Sorry internet, but you don’t get that.

But what I can write about is my writing. More specifically I can let you in on the secret of what’s been stopping me publishing stuff for the last six months.

I’m working on a novel.

I shan’t go into detail but for those who’ve read more than a couple of my posts it won’t surprise you to learn that there’s a healthy element of kink and particularly an emphasis on rope bondage in this current WIP. There’s also (partially following some encouragement from a potential publisher) and element of the supernatural.

Now, let me be very clear, I am not talking some god-awful Twilight knock-off. There be no dragons, werewolves or vampires in my story. Instead I’ve been doing one of the best bits of writing, I’ve been doing research (yaay more books!) into the occult and different traditions and generally trying to get more of a handle on (for want of a better term) ‘real magic’.

“You don’t really believe in all this stuff do you?” asked my mum, upon seeing me absorbed in An Introduction to the Golden Dawn Tarot.

The answer isn’t really straightforward. In fact I’d go so far as to say the answer cuts right to the heart of what it means to write. You see I’m well aware that when I read or write, that it’s not actually happening. No matter how many times I re-read the junior novelisation of Jurassic Park, those characters aren’t actually there and the dinosaurs aren’t really real. But (and here’s the important bit) when I’m reading it, they are real. Even when it’s the fifth or sixth time through, they are still absolutely facing that life or death situation, and facing it right now, as I read.

A friend of mine once described conspiracy theories as being an indulgence; something you let yourself believe in for a little while because it’s fun and can be an interesting new perspective on things. I guess that’s how I’d describe my approach to belief, as a luxury, something to be enjoyed in quiet moments, like a cup of tea or a walk in the snow. Something different, a change, a little piece of time where anything’s possible.