Dita Parker

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Ready, steady...

Good evening, dearest denizens, or good afternoon; or good morning, if you happen to hail from some futuristic longitude. 

Just wanted to remind you to come back tomorrow for our First Ever In The History of This Blog and The Known Universe And Going For As Long As We Feel Like It Or Find Something Else To Talk About At The End Of The Week Frisky Friday!

Sketching my post, I gave myself a thousand-word maximum. I'm afraid I still managed to fit a new topic into each paragraph, as I am wont to do when there's no one to keep me in check. But seriously, I could have gone on ad nauseam, and I'd really prefer no one blew chunks on Parker premises, not when we're trying to have a conversation.

"Why don't you just write a book while you're at it," I said. "Thanks for the support," I answered. "Come to think of it, I just might." And before you start wondering, that exchange is not symptomatic of my mental health, merely a reflection of The Process, or, moments when there's nothing or no one to keep me in check.

"It could be a collaboration. Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex (But Never Thought Asking An Erotic Romance Author). Or I could do it on my own." 
"So now you're the high priests and priestesses of sex?" 
"No! I'm just saying." 
"What?"
"That we think about these things. At least I do."
"Let's file this under 'Things to be written some other lifetime because this one ain't getting any longer,' shall we, and stick to the task at hand, which we have a chance of completing. While we're still young."
"You don't believe I could do it."
"Of course I do. It would be awesome. Sell like hotcakes. Get you Gerry Butler's private number. You'd reenact the sad and the saucy of Phantom of the Opera. 'Poor unhappy Eric'-"
"The movie makes no mention of his name."
"It doesn't? Are you sure? Anyway, your agent would be thrilled. Now you have to ask yourself, 'Do I have an agent? Have I written this book? Wasn't I in the middle of something else?'"

Ah, The Process. Good times always had by all until reality crashes the party. So. I did manage to write a fairly coherent, around-a-thousand-words post about sex and self-image. Or tried very hard to. I'll let you be the judge of how it turned out. Now, if you'll excuse me, myself and I, I'm off to sleep. Until tomorrow, sweetie darlings! Think sexy thoughts.

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