So You Aren’t What You Write?

I have this fear. Sometimes it’s a minor worry that people won’t ever see past the sex in my stories and get what I was really trying to portray. Sometimes it’s a paralyzing fear that I will be labeled an erotic writer instead of just a writer period. I don’t mind the erotic label… I think erotica is a fine and honorable genre, but it would be nice to know that people knew that when I sit down to write, it’s all about the writing.

I see myself as a writer. I don’t write anything that I’m not comfortable with. I don’t write anything that compromises my beliefs or integrity. However, I realize that not everyone sees it that way. I realize that some people may associate me with sex writing. And not everyone sees the honor in that. But apparently, there are some people out there who view us as writers…. period.

In her blog yesterday, Rachel mentioned that someone recognized her as “a famous writer.” That made me smile. Something like that would make my day. Not necessarily the “famous” part, but the “writer” part. Not prefaced with erotica/sex/porn/smut… just a writer. What a huge compliment!

This interview with M. Christian also did plenty to reassure me. I feel honored to have had my work lay within the same pages as his. Wow… does that mean he’s my colleague?

I haven’t done much writing the past couple of days. I’ve been leaving my notebook at home, but still I hadn’t felt any pressing need to get anything down. I did play with a few poems, but I blame Jill Scott for that. I haven’t written a poem in a couple of years, but her CD has really been inspiring.

Well, that’s about it. Thankful for an upcoming holiday. I hope to get some work done.

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