We’re deep into poetry month (ok, ok, we’re a week in), and I haven’t poeted yet.
What’s up with that?!
Honestly, what’s up with that is that a dear friend and creative mentor to the western hemisphere died. Just disappeared from the local art scene, and left a huge void. I think of him every time I write, and I miss him. He died while editing my first novel (about death and dying – no, I’m not kidding), and I’ve been a little hesitant.
If he were here, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Get over it lady,” I loved the way he used to say ‘lady‘, “and get writing!”
He interviewed me a couple of times on his radio show, and just the other day, a friend of mine who had tuned in to listen remembered my friend, and that particular interview, “My god he was turned on. Hell, you had the whole city horny.”
Yes, this is the feedback we need from our creative friends when trying to write smut. Success.
So in honour of my friend, who was ruthless in his art and living an authentic life, today I will dedicate myself to writing what needs to be written.
In honour of my friends who, like me get too caught up in the grind to sate their creative, sensual, lovely inner wild beast, I will write what needs to be written; without fear, shame, shyness or reserve.
I will also need bourbon to do this.