For decades I didn’t file any of my sexual experiences under the label rape. After all, no one applied physical force—the sex was always consensual. Nor was I comfortable using the label statutory rape, even though when I was a minor, all my sexual partners were not. At the time, I knew what I was doing—I wanted it.
I set out to work on my second memoir. And got stuck. Nothing gelled. I wrote dreck. It was as if a hex was laid on me. Writing became a chore. In my aspirations to become a multi-book author, I stubbornly persisted. Judy tried to help—she offered advice and suggested projects that might work better.
Writers also rose to the challenge. Online writers’ groups emerged, helping create structure and accountability. Freelance writers, in an attempt to boost paying online gigs offered introductory or beginner workshops and webinars at reduced prices. Some were actually free. The world opened up to me and with it my life as a writer.
I feel lost. I know what I want to write about. I’ve written bits and pieces. But it won’t gel. I’ve tried stepping back to take a break, to gain a better perspective. What is this story about? Normally, all it takes is a shower. I stand under the shower head, water streaming down my … Read more