Friday, November 21, 2008

Sleep for a Thousand Hours

Passed the 40,000 word mark . Only 10,000 words to go. Groan, Groan, Groan, Groan, Groan... ::wan smile from a NaNoWriMo moll::

When this is over, I'm going to sleep for a thousand hours.

Or years, whatever comes first.

Don't I look like I'm writing maniacally, not having a life! Squirreled away, pounding the keyboard, reading glasses hugging the nose, hour after hour, night after night... sleep for a thousand hours, I say!

How's it going? Really and truly I can no longer call it 'erotic fiction.' Ah, well. I tried but ya know writing trash is difficult and beyond my capacities to keep up for any length of time.

Here's a snatch from tonight:

At HIL (House of Ill-Repute), Orsola and Mœdello sat at the great wooden table next to the kitchen surrounded by the five Madames and whoever else drifted in and out, various children of varying ages mostly. The Madames were dressed in old velvets and chiffons of deep and warm colours, dark purples and rose pinks, and some wore rhinestone beaded bandannas and they all wore dangly shiny costume jewelry from their ears and around their necks. They were more opulent than when they were younger, and exuded even more sensuality.

Perhaps it was the insular way the city had developed, the Bordello more-or-less aging with its original occupants. These were older women who laughed easily and who were comfortable with who they were, how they looked, in themselves; even if some might say they looked a little batty, to Orsola and Mœdello, they were colourful, warm and beautiful.


But it got worse in tonight's writing.

The Bordello was like an apothecary. A pantry at the back contained an array of herbal remedies, not just many bundles of dried herbs hung from the rafters and walls, but shelves of tinctures.

And then my rampant muse, oh! My rampant muse made an outrageous assertion.

For, besides being hookers, the old Madames were as knowledgeable as trained midwives.

While they laughed often, they were jovial women, particularly hearty laughter shook them when they said they were women from the ancient religion and were high priestesses who were sacred prostitutes, midwives and healers. Of course, no-one took such nonsense seriously.

5 comments:

  1. Anonymous1:13 PM

    Oh Brenda, I'm in awe. I hope to someday read this novel (or novella, or however it will be published) but yes, it WILL be published.

    Racy, and yet brainy. What a turn-on!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jackie, Your photographs are incredible! Thank you so much for stopping by, and leaving that link back to your site. I am in awe. Absolutey in awe.

    Those dancers - wow. Exactly, exactly what I love to paint.

    And thanks for the NaNo support!

    ReplyDelete
  3. That didn't come out right - the sensuality of the belly dancer is pen-ultimate for me... and your photographs burst with that sensuality. They are beautiful women.

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  4. Anonymous5:45 PM

    Oh Brenda,
    I just adore, relish, gobble up your writing.. You have such courage, such sensuousness.. I'm swooning.. what a fragrant, for lack of an appropriate word, writer you are.. yummy yumm yumm.. I want to read it all and more.. wow..

    Claire,
    One of your biggest fans

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you, Claire! Still writing, who knows... *hugs

    ReplyDelete

A Pulsing Imagination - Ray Clews' Paintings

A video of some of my late brother Ray's paintings and poems I wrote for them. Direct link: https://youtu.be/V8iZyORoU9E ___