Too busy to blog These seventeen syllables Are all you get now.
‘Hey, I noticed your profile and would like to offer you a job, erotic writing, you keen?’ ‘Absolutely,’ I replied, ‘Erotica is my thing. Send me a brief and we can chat.’ ‘Okay. They’re Alien Abduction stories. I need five stories, ten thousand words each, … Continue reading Space Sex
Someone asked me today how I am and without thinking or analysing or overthinking I replied that I’m good. That I’m busy at work which is fantastic. And busy with life and a bit of love and also with dogs and kids and friends and the sweetest ripest granadillas and fresh food and fruit and very good wine and I realised something.
Even with our political turmoil, I’m happy.
Even with a love life that is sometimes in turmoil, I’m happy.
Maybe it’s the weather; these glorious autumn days with glorious autumn colours.
Maybe it’s the possibility of love.
Of new kisses.
Maybe it’s the dope I smoked.
Or all the dancing I’ve done.
I don’t know.
It could be because I finally learned how to use semi-colons which make me feel so good, like I love using them and I think I need to use one immediately; would this be right?
I don’t know why, I just feel happy.
Perhaps I’ve become less difficult to please. More comfortable with me. And you.
And with life.
I just want to shout it out.
I’M KINDA HAPPY.
It’s a good feeling.
‘How much of your writing is real, Violet?’ ‘I’m never quite sure what to believe, Violet.’ ‘After your stories I expected you to be thinner, sexier and very intelligent. Violet.’ Uh. Oooooh. If my writing name was x, a woman of a certain age with … Continue reading Who am I?
This morning I read my horoscope and even though I always giggle and say this is such bullshit, secretly, I cannot wait to open my mail and read what the new month holds for me. And this month, the new month and the new moon … Continue reading A pinch and a punch
I find it tricky when people ask me questions about myself. I never have straightforward answers. I’m terrible at small talk, I say. I’m not very good at parties. I quite like being outdoors. I’m a coffee addict, a mother, dog lover, traveller, wanna be … Continue reading Me
‘Tell me your fantasies Violet?’
I thought for a while. I thought about a fantasy I used to have when I was younger. Being kidnapped, held for ransom, falling semi in love with my hostage taker, a dramatic rescue by a dark and handsome stranger, riding off on horseback, clothes shredded, dishevelled, a mess but oh god he saved me and kissed me and I looked so skinny and sexy on that horse.
Don’t judge me, it was a fantasy.
Those are the kind of things that women fantasise about. Having wild sex with a stranger, being dominated, ravaged, men on horseback, horses…
So when he asked me, it was easy
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I have this amazing fantasy, this dream, this…’
Because I didn’t see ransom notes or horses riding off into the sunset. I didn’t see a muscular man with long hair and a perfect six pack.
I saw me, wearing an oversized sweater in a cosy cabin on the beach, a roaring fire, dogs at my feet, a typewriter, tons of paper, red wine, cigarettes and someone, old and lovely, delivering my food.
The only part of this dream that will never happen is the cigarette bit.
I hate smoking.
Ah, I’m just going to carry on fantasising…