As most writers know, putting your own thoughts down on paper is like pouring your heart and soul out. I don’t know if it gets easier over time, but for a first time writer, it has been quite the emotional rollercoaster.
I started out wanted to write more of an autobiography. Quickly I realized that I was not ready to share my real experiences with the rest of the world. Perhaps in a few years, but for now, the good and the bad are still too recent.
Wanting to write about my experience as a fetish escort in Europe, I felt somewhat like a fish out of water in the US. So many things that are perfectly normal, and legal, in Europe, are illegal in the US. Some are simply pushed under the rug, out of public sight. Fetishes of all sorts are something that can enhance positive relationships, and shouldn’t be frowned upon as something weirdos do. I honestly did not know where the line between documenting my experience and admitting to criminal, or at least questionable, behavior was. I’m probably still crossing the line quite frequently.
That’s a problem when writing a longer book. I had from the beginning in mind to document about a 2 year period, at least some of the more interesting and insightful aspects. But as I began writing, I found myself shying away from exposing myself too much. I couldn’t get myself to open up and write about myself as a deeply emotionally involved character.
In the first part of what I knew was going to be a nine part book (or a trilogy, each consisting of three books), I stayed true to virtually every detail of an actual date. Now that I read it again, it feels more like a documentary. I keep saying to myself ‘Yes, that happened, and then that’ and so on. I think my character lacked emotion. It had great detail that would probably be of great interest for anyone who ever wanted to go on a date with a fetish escort in Europe, but as erotic fiction, I have to admit that I have seen so many writers who can express the erotic dynamic between two people in ways that I never could.
This continued for the second and third book, all of which are based on real events with only minor fictionalization. It even reflected itself in my choice of covers — each of the first three books had the identical cover picture, revealing very little of me, only changing the titles.
It took a good break over the winter to realize that the character I was describing was actually much more interesting if I thought of her as the sort of person I would love to be. A combination of genuinely submissive desires, but also of strength, with the wish to be able to escape from reality at times.
That’s where the second part of the trilogy kicked off. It may seem like a strange switch to readers (for which I apologize), but writing it, I could get much more into the character development if I had an idealized version of myself in mind, rather than staying true to the actual events.
While there are some bisexual tendencies in the first part of the trilogy, they are becoming stronger in the second part. I can’t say that I’m not bisexual, but I never really acted out on some of my curiosity. Writing with such a sudden turn from mostly reality-based to almost fantasy, is probably very unconventional. It may even be bad writing. But if I wanted to show more of what was going on in my head, as opposed to describing fact-based accounts of real events, as if I had taken notes of each encounter, then it was the only way for me to go.
At this point, the writing part became much more fun. I could let go of reality, throw in some fantasy, but when it came to the parts I knew, still keep the description of the details that I wanted to convey to my readers. The cover I used was beginning to show more of me, but in a way that left much of the interpretation to the reader. It’s still one of my favorite pictures. More powerful, looking over the city, a big sky, full of opportunities.
In the third part of the trilogy, I let go completely. I had come to admire my main character. Reality and fiction were beginning to become so intertwined that I introduce events that happened, just not in the way I would have wished they did. Perhaps they never could have, and more importantly, I might not really want them to be that way, even if I could. But as I drifted more and more into the fantasy world, the writing got easier, I went with the flow of my own fantasies, rather than being bound by reality. Quite frequently, I typed entire paragraphs with my eyes closed, just letting my mind to the typing.
It was a liberating experience. There are so many things I could describe, the good and the bad, that I could never manage in reality. There is a dark side in me. A side that I don’t really want to admit exists. I would never write about it, or even want to live it out. Yet in the world of fiction, there were ways for me to express precisely the emotions that I would feel when I was struggling with good and evil.
Of course, many of the events are still based on actual experiences, but they were now the background, rather than the story. I could let the story go where it would take me, knowing that I always had a solid grounding when it came to the foundation on which my fantasy was built.
When it all was done, I didn’t have the energy to wait for my regular cover designer to finish. I was wiped out, and I wanted Clarice to be done. On a personal level, I had finally designed the type of outfit that I wanted to wear as a super heroine. When I had it, and the pictures were done, I put the cover together myself — eventually it will have a more professional look (again, I’m sorry). For now, I wanted it to be different. I wanted it to look futuristic, surreal, and in color.
I finished writing ‘Clarice’ over a month ago, and except for two short stories, have not written since. Instead, I have devoted quite a bit of time to building up this blog. It’s lifting a huge load off my shoulders to be able to write about things the way I want to, not having to worry about readers or how others can write erotica so much better than I can. With this blog, I’m saying what I want to say. I’m not selling anything (although I don’t mind if it results in people wanting to read ‘Clarice’), I just want to let out some of the steam that’s inside of me.
I feel drained from the experience. The last sentence of the trilogy, “For now, tomorrow will just have to wait”, was exactly how I felt.