As far as my writing goes, this month has been a particularly bad month. I've been working my day job more hours (and I get paid by the hour, so this is a good thing, as far as salary goes), my kids were on vacation for almost two weeks, and the Passover holiday pretty much dominated everything for everyone, for the three weeks preceding it as well as the holiday itself.
But even with all the time constraints, I could have gotten more writing done if I hadn't had such deep mental snags with a couple of the stories.
The way I set up the Bentmoore stories, they always take place in a time span of two or three nights. The nights have to be consecutive, and they have to connect, flow one to the next.
I have a lot of ideas running through my head right now for scenes, but I was having a hard time figuring out how to make one scene connect to another, to make them flow into a story-length piece of work. For instance, I'm imagining one scene of a host taking a guest out to the stables for some pony play; he harnesses her, dresses her up in everything including the tail, and then puts her through her paces before riding her, and fucking her, hard.
In another scene I'm picturing, a host is putting a guest through some pretty heavy medical play, complete with laxatives, enemas, probes, and speculums. She's strapped to the table, feet up, and completely at his mercy.
And in yet another scene, a hostess is having fun dominating over her male guest, making him her slave, forcing him to do her every bidding and take it up every hole.
But none of these scenes flow together, at least not at first look; none of them can easily be spliced together to make up a complete story. And this was snagging me. Usually, I need to know, in advance, where a story is going. I can't start it without some specific ideas of where it's supposed to end up.
But I've decided, this time, to stop thinking that way. The scenes I have in mind are good ones, they are hot and erotic, and right now, the most important thing is to get some of them down in writing and stop worrying so much about the ending and flow. The not knowing was making me stop completely, making me come to a screeching halt, and that was not good. So I'm not going to let it. I'm going to write out the scenes as they come out of my head, and have the faith that in the end, I'll figure things out.
I made that decision a couple days ago, and once I did, I felt so much better. Like a weight had been lifted off my head; my imagination could flow again. It felt liberating.
So work is still crazy, and my kids are taking up most of my time at home. But this weekend, I plan to set aside a chunk of time, close the door, and write.