Getting The Juices Flowing

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Now if I was in a naughtier frame of mind, that title could mean this was a totally different type of post… but as I generally don’t talk sex on here, or at least not in an overt blunt manner, that’s not what that title means.

For anyone who’s been around these parts lately (or not so lately, to be more accurate), you’d have noticed a decidedly lack of activity since mid-August, with the previous couple of months being very sporadic.

Once again, I’ve become a lazy blogger and writer, and it’s becoming increasingly hard to get back into the flow of things.  To get those creative juices flowing, so to speak.

Or maybe not…

Repeatedly over the past few months, I’ve had ideas for blog posts or things I’d like to write about but I just haven’t.  More than anything I just keep dreading the thought of sitting down at the laptop after a full day’s work in the office in front of the computer.

My eyes (and brain) can only take so much I think.

So instead of writing I’ve been voraciously devouring books on my Kindle, gotten re-addicted to Candy Crush, and watching Netflix like it’s going out of season.  So instead of writing cause I don’t want to be in front of the laptop, I’m glued to the tv, my tablet or my Kindle… not much different, right?

And all the while I’d doing that, I’m having ideas pop into my head of things to write about, or possible (fiction) stories to write, and so forth… but yet I still don’t do anything about it, and the ideas either continue to rattle around my head or get forgotten into the ether.

So what the hell has prompted me to actually sit down today and write?  How’d I manage to shockingly drag my ass out of bed or off the sofa to sit in front of the laptop?

To be honest, it almost didn’t happen at all.  I was all snug and warm under the duvet, with unlimited lives on Candy Crush and could have easily just stayed there all afternoon.

But what kept going through my head was snippets of a conversation I’d had with a mate at a birthday party in Soho.  A mate who’s had some short stories or poetry published, and is about to have more of his work published in the next six months or so.

And as thrilled as I was to hear of how well he was doing and the palpable excitement in his voice as he explained his plans, all I could think about was ‘why isn’t this me?’.

Yeah… good old jealous selfish me couldn’t just be happy for him, but I had to think about how that’s exactly where I want to be in life.  Well, not exactly.  He writes poetry and children books (with a touch of horror), whereas I’m looking at LGBT fiction, with a side of M2M romance thrown in.

But from our conversation last night, I can understand why he’s doing so well at the moment – he’s working at it.  He dedicates time each and every day to write a certain number of words.  He makes sure he takes the time to hone his writing, and pushes himself to accomplish it even when he’s not feeling up to it.

And me?  I’m just sitting here like a bump on a log wishing I could be published.  And haven’t done a damn thing to get to where he is at the moment.  Or more accurately, where I want to be.

I know the only person that’s going to drive me to succeed is me.  Not my mate, not some mythical publisher who’s going to come out of the woodwork wanting to put my words into print.

Not even you, the lovely people who’ve taken the time out of their busy days to stay with me even when I wasn’t sure I was coming back.

I know I need to get off my ass and motivate myself to do something about what I want out of life.  And if I don’t, then I only have myself to blame when I don’t succeed.

Here’s hoping this is the wake up call I need to get my butt in gear… time will tell, right?

Burst of Sunshine.. and Creativity

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spring-meets-dc-and-i-meet-the-1980s

So today was finally the first truly sunny WARM day we’ve had here in London in what feels like an eternity.  Watching how everyone was so excited for the weekend to get here so they could spend some time out in the sun was fun, and was getting me thinking of how I was going to spend the day.

After sleeping in, of course. LOL

I thought about getting myself all set up in the back garden with my Kindle and a nice cup of coffee to relax in the sun.  Or to head into Crystal Palace Park to wander around the dinosaurs and relax in the sun.

Well all those loosely laid plans went flying out the window.. as I woke up at 7:30am this morning with an idea for a story that had been bouncing around my subconscious for about a week now.  The strength of the idea and how quickly I started to flush out the first few scenes in my mind kept me out of bed and racing for the laptop.

So there I was at 8am this morning with a bug mug of coffee at my elbow and a load of laundry on the go downstairs, I started to write.

And write.

And write.

And put in a second load of laundry.

And write.

Next thing I knew it was noon when a mate messaged me to see what I was up to… and I’d written close to 2000 words.

Colour me shocked! I haven’t written like that in so long, especially not fiction.

So I took a break to make myself a late breakfast, and to maybe sketch out some further story ideas in a notepad while sitting in the back garden.

And I did for a bit.. before I suddenly started writing a lot of the backstory for something I’d only briefly considered adding into the story.

Another cup of coffee and a couple cigarettes later, I was back upstairs at the laptop typing out character descriptions, more backstory and a preface that described tons of history in this new world I’d suddenly created before heading back to the main story.. And that’s when I realised I was finishing off chapter two.

When I’d originally sat down this morning I didn’t think I was starting a novel, but more just a short story to add to those I’ve written before.

This was only the second time I’ve attempted to write a full fledged novel, with the first being the now lost manuscript I’d spent a load of time writing and editing while living in Montreal, even if I wasn’t a hundred percent happy with the end product.  It was still my baby, and I still regret losing it.. though haven’t completely lost hope yet.  It’s got to be somewhere in the ether of the net.

Or maybe it’s on that old floppy disk I have no way of accessing anymore.  Hmmm…

Anyway, I’m excited to see where it might lead me, even if I have other things I want to focus my writing on (See recent post regarding possible article submissions to a gay magazine).

And despite missing out on a load of the sunshine today, I feel good about the day and how productive I’ve been.

Now to just keep the momentum going.

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My Name is X (Part 4)

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Click HERE to read Part 3

The night we first met was funnily enough at a gallery opening not far from the one we’d gone to tonight.  That artist apparently had a fascination with the penis, so every piece of work was very phallic to say the least.  We swear a couple of the photographs were of his own cock.

I’d agreed to meet Mags there that night but couldn’t find her once I’d arrived so I got myself a watered-down cocktail from the overly priced bar and kept an eye out for her while I took a look around.

Just as I was turning away from a suspicious looking sculpture, some muscle-bound twat bumped into me and spilled his drink down my shirt.

“Watch where you’re going, will ya?” he growled at me as he moved off as if he’d done nothing wrong.  As tempted as I was to go screaming after him, instead I headed to the loo to try and dry my shirt off.  Luckily it was only white wine he’d spilled on me so it wouldn’t stain.

Cute-Low-Bodyfat-Tanned-Blond-Male-ModelOf course I did a lot of cursing and swearing in the mirror thinking about that pretentious asshole.

And just my luck, when I finally met up with Mags, that ‘asshole’ turned out to be her bestie Daren.

It’s always the way, huh?

To be honest, I can’t remember exactly when my perception of him changed and we started to hang out without Mags from time to time.  Sometimes you just want to go out with the boys without your best girlfriend tagging along.  And some of the bars we’d go to didn’t allow women in anyway.

When we first hooked up I thought for sure it was just going to be a one-time thing, as we were completely shitfaced at the time and we’re complete polar opposites.  He’s tall, blonde, muscular, very gregarious, and looks like he should be in an Italian underwear advert. Think David Beckham with a thicker chest and without the tattoos.  I’m just an average Joe with a bit of a belly, introverted, balding (I shave it so I don’t look like a monk), and average looking if you ask me.

But somehow it worked for a while.

We kept it from Mags for a bit, as we never wanted to get her hopes up.  When she first introduced us, she’d joked that we should name our first child after her, though she knew we both had different types in guys.

I think she was more shocked when we started dating than either of us were.

We did our best to not put her in the middle of any issues we had while we were together since she was friends with both of us.  The last thing either of us did was go to her with any problems we had with the other, that way she didn’t have to take any sides.

Though to be honest, there weren’t many issues between us.  It was more like having your best friend at home with you at the end of the day. beary breakfastQuite comfortable, but no real passion if you know what I mean.  Though the sex was a lot of fun.

Well, that’s all in the past now.  We’ve both moved on with our lives since then (was about 4 or 5 years ago), and we’ve both dated other people since.

The one thing that has never really changed through all of it was how close the three of us are.  When Daren and I ‘broke up’, it was like nothing had changed from before.  The three of us were like the musketeers and joined at the hip as usual.

Some people may find that odd, but it worked for us.  We don’t pretend it never happened, because that would imply it was a bad thing and it wasn’t.

My Name is X (Part 3)

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Click HERE for Part 2

The three of us didn’t stay at that gallery opening too long, though we did find it amusing that the ‘artist’ decided to show up wearing just a tumblr_ly027lwvQb1qj8ar7o1_500jock-strap and a leather harness.  It was amusing to watch the shocked reactions as he pranced around the gallery chatting to the patrons.

It takes all types I suppose.

Apparently there really was a new restaurant Mags wanted to go to close to the gallery opening, so off we went to enjoy some interesting combinations of curry and what we think was lamb or something like it.  The food was okay at best, but the ambiance was cosy and we enjoyed a couple bottles of wine and loads of laughs.  As always.

The three of us have been fast friends for ages now, way before Daren and I decided to play house for a couple years.  Mags and Daren grew up together as their families are pretty close, and there were hopes when they were children that they’d grow up and get married.

That obviously wasn’t going to happen.  Mags became his faghag fairly early on, way before he came out to the families, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.

Mags and I met back in 2003, close to 10 years ago, through a job I did for the publishing company she works at.  I was brought in to lead a restructure project for their customer services department, and she was the assistant of the department head I had to report into so we had to work quite closely together for the 9 months or so I was working there.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t until about a month before I was finishing up there that we went out for drinks together to celebratecoworker meme the project nearing a close.  Up until then we hadn’t really socialised together or really knew much about each other’s lives.

And she apparently had no clue I was gay, which surprised me.

I’m not one to hide who I am, and I don’t think I come across very masculine, but at the same time I don’t walk into a room with my hands on my hips, calling everything ‘Fabulous’.  I’m gay, but not that gay if you know what I mean.

Anyway, long story short, we became friends and kept in touch once my contract ended.  Which was great considering I’d only moved to London about a month or two before starting that job and I hadn’t made a lot of friends as of yet.  Through Mags I met a whole slew of people I never would have otherwise.

The thing about Mags is she’s such a social butterfly and seems to know everyone.  She’s got one of those personalities that everyone just seems to love, even if she can come across as someone snobbish at first.  It’s just part of who she is, and quite quickly you realise that it’s also just a façade for when she’s out and about.

Her social life is filled with so many events and parties that I’m not sure she’d know what to do if she wasn’t out and about all the time.  She’s definitely someone who lives life to the fullest and enjoys finding new places to go to.  Although she has never been that successful in the Cute-Low-Bodyfat-Tanned-Blond-Male-Modelromance department herself.

And obviously I met Daren through Mags, though we didn’t get along at first.

Thinking back on it, I thought he was completely pretentious and up his own arse when we first met, despite his rugged good looks and perfect smile.  That initial judgement on my part changed over time as I got to know him better.

My Name is X (Part 2)

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Click HERE to read Part 1

Don’t worry, it’s not about to get all catty in here.

Daren and I truly are on good terms, even falling into bed again every once in a while when we’re drunk.  We ended things after we both realised 2 men in bedit just wasn’t working.  It was still fun, but it was more friends with benefits than a relationship.  We both agree we’re just better as friends now.

It still doesn’t stop me from thinking he’s still as fuckable as hell, though I didn’t think so when we first met.

“Oh darling, there you are!”  Mags glided over to me dragging Daren behind her.  “We were wondering where you’d gone off to.  Last I saw you were chatting to some little ginger guy over by the still life portraits.”

That was the fucktard who couldn’t understand my name.  “Yeah, he’s a moron,” I told her.  “Why did you even introduce me to him in the first place?”

Being the drama queen we all know she loves to be, Mags pulled her best slightly shocked, but slightly mortified look she gives when she tries to pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

I’d call it her innocent look if it weren’t for the fact that she’s can lie through her fucking teeth.  And that’s a compliment.

“But darling, didn’t I tell you?” she asked insincerely.  “He’s the prince regent from some remote little island nation off the coast of Africa.  And here I was, trying to hook you up with royalty.”  She actually put her wrist against her forehead like she was going to faint of mortification, and kilt2[1]let out a little moan.

“Oh bitch please.  He’s fucking Scottish, and lives in East Hackney while he tries to find his inner muse and write his first novel.  He thinks he’s going to write the next Harry Potter or some shit like that.”

See.  I do pay attention when people talk shit to me, even if they don’t listen to me.

Mags pulled a pouty face.  “You mean he lied to me?  That bastard!”

Laughing I said, “Yeah right babes.  As if anyone would lie to you.”  I gave her a wink as I gave Daren a hug and kiss hello.  “So gorgeous, how’d Madame get you to agree to come to this atrocity of a showing?  You usually stay far away from these things.”

Daren rolled his eyes and shot Mags a dirty look.  “Basically she lied to me.  She told me she was taking me to some new Indian Fusion restaurant sexy arab-speedothat had the cutest waiters in town.”

I laughed at that.  That was Daren for you, always on the lookout for some cutie to play around with, though that wasn’t his normal type.  “And here I thought I was the one who liked Asian guys.”

He just shrugged.  “Sometimes you want something a bit more exotic.  Besides, I’ve always been curious to see what you see in those guys.”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure myself sometimes.