Coursework - Discovering Place

This task asked that we write about writers in two different settings, one being our writing heaven and the other our writing hell, then to offer these up for con-crit:

The flak jacket was a necessary evil,.but Eric hated how it pulled on his shoulders. ‘Embedded Journalism’ was the name for what he was doing here, but really it was ‘Going to War Unarmed’. It also involved becoming attached to people who were quite possibly going to be dead by the end of the week, as well as risking being dead yourself if you cocked up. Then there was the censorship; people thought the press was free, but that was bull. Dead soldiers counted, were memorialised, were made into heroes no matter how stupid and unnecessary their deaths. The numbers of injured, those maimed, whose lives were forever changed, were not recorded, except in reporters notebooks, the numbers never to be revealed because it would effect morale and support for the war back home.

This was a fascinating place. Ella had never been so relaxed, or so able and enthused to write. From her preferred lounger on deck four she could watch the whole world go by. Well, the elements of the world that could afford a fortnight’s trip on a luxury liner; the sorts of people Ella rarely got to observe, because normally she would not be able to afford this type of trip. She wa loving her new computer too, so compact and powerful and discreet. She could tap away and people weren’t at all concerned. They assumed she was doing something else, anything else than recording their every move, every nuisance of their behaviours. So  much to see and do, and day-long sunshine and peace.

Practising My Porn: In the Public Eye 1 (EXPLICIT)

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT, maturbation, mutual masturbation, frottage, male-male sex, exposure, CCTV, Avengers fanfic, Loki Laufeyson/Tony Stark

All the stories published as part of this series of posts were first published on Archive of Our Own, under the pen name of AbaddonsDaughter. They are published for fun, with no intention to make any money out of them. The characters are copyright to their originators and are borrowed here without intention to infringe copyright.

Summary:

Tony's had a hard day at work. His personal assistant, Loki Laufeyson, has a great idea on how they can work off the tension.

Work Text:

Tony had a sixth sense for the presence of cameras. He’d spent most of his adult life either courting them or avoiding them. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to do right now.

Loki had been teasing him the whole day. Just little things; innocent-seeming gestures or phrases. Like the way he’d eaten the carrot batons at lunch or how he’d stood while taking notes in the afternoons meeting. The Asgardian God of Mischief knew exactly what he was doing, though.

Tony was at his limit now. He’d been nursing an erection for at least two hours; damned inconvenient when you are trying to sell someone your latest eco-friendly gizmos. Loki was utterly remorseless too, his expressions during te meeting had shown his utter amusement and delight at the effect he wa having on the head of the Stark empire. In truth, those expressions were some of Tony’s favourite looks on Loki. He was relaxed and full of cheek, his green eyes glittering with mischief and lust.

They were walking across a public square, in full view of the world. The world in general wasn’t paying them much attention right now. Tony had spotted three CCTV cameras and figured at least two more subtly placed ones on top of that. This plaza was in the business district though, and there was nothing special about a high ranking businessman and his personal assistant strolling there. That at least meant they were not being especially targeted by the cameras.

Oh hell! Loki had spotted the cameras too. He was smirking and tipping his head towards each as he stopped to drape himself against the edge of a fountain. His marvellous emerald eyes were full of laughter as he reached out to drag Tony close by his lapels.

“I saw you flirting with their CEO, Tony Stark.”

Well yeah, business was business and a man takes any chance he gets to make the deal, right? Besides, that guy had been cute and the meeting was boring.

Pulled deep into Loki’s aura like he was, Tony was drowning in the incredibly arousing scent of the alien god. He was mint, and lemon, and tea. Underneath that clean, icy scent Tony could catch the more rarified scents of Loki Laufeyson: his humour, desire, his magic, his lust.

“You smell delicious.” Loki nodded, acknowledging his own sex appeal, and then dragged Tony the rest of the way in, so that his face came to be against the taller man’s neck. Long arms slithered around his waist and back until they were in an uncompromisingly erotic clinch.

Okay, two men clinging to each other in a public place isn’t going to make the papers, right? Maybe; it depends on who is behind those camera lenses and whether they have a clear shot of who the men in question are.

Loki was wriggling, not massively so, but enough to be providing friction where their hips were conjoined. Tony’s brain applied the label ‘wicked’ to his cheeky companion as the provocation escalated. His lips brushed Tony’s scalp and a soft murmur drifted over his head as Loki uttered a possessive, Asgardian endearment directed at his Tony Stark.

Tony was desperately aware of the slender but strong frame pressed against him; he was also aware his consequent arousal was leaving a conspicuous stain on the front of his suit trousers. He was practically humping against Loki’s thigh now, like a besotted puppy dog.

Loki’s hands were sliding under his jacket tail, his slender fingers finding their way under the waistband of his pants. The coolness of Loki’s skin was something Tony had taken a while to get used to. Now, that frostiness was a trigger for Tony’s lust. Hell, every little unusual aspect of the sensuous, mischievous alien’s body and behaviour was a trigger for him, if he was honest. Even the way he ate toast was sexy.

Living in a near-permanent state of arousal was Tony’s life now. It had been that way almost from the first time they met. Admittedly though, being sent flying through a very high window on their first date had been a mood crusher, but evidently not a deal breaker. It had taken less than a year from that point for them to come to be living together as a true couple.

Tony was jerked back from his reminiscences, quite literally, by the grip Loki decided to apply to his cock through the fabric of his clothes. Raising his eyes, Tony caught a flicker of a naughty smirk on his lover’s face. A tiny shower of green sparks of magic saw to the buttons of Tony’s pants. Loki was so good at this game.

Tony undulated in response to the cool touch to his genitals, pressing into Loki’s grip. The move generated a satisfied growl in Loki’s throat, and a further tightening of his grasp. He had Tony exactly where he wanted him.

Tony was less satisfied, especially since he had to negotiate the complicated lacing on Loki’s fly without the aid of spellcasting. A frustrated harumph escaped his lips as he struggled with the peculiarities of Asgardian garb, followed by a tiny victory jiggle as his grasping fingers found their target. Loki growled some more, that darkly passionate sound that Tony loved to hear emanating from him, knowing he had provoked it.

Senses heightened with the sex-energy enveloping them, Tony heard the zoom function activate on the nearest camera. Damn, they were now starring in their very own candid camera moment, literally one click away from having their exhibitionist antics splattered all over the internet.

Loki rolled his hips, shifting them slightly, so that their jackets would fall in a way that shielded them from the cameras, if not the people around them. In the same move, he brought their straining cocks together and began a swift assault aimed at bringing them both to climax. The friction knocked the chill off Loki’s skin. Lord, did Tony appreciate those elegant digits!

A woman approached the fountain. Her clothes marked her as a tourist who had strayed into the business district by accident. She was about to perch on the rim of the structure, in a manner similar to Loki’s when they had first settled there, when she realised what they were up to. Her hand flew to her mouth and then she fled the scene. Loki’s warm chuckle vibrated through both of them.

Tony was leaning in now, writhing in Loki’s grasp, his brain functions severely diminished in exchange for focussing as fully as possible to the movements which were presently wringing a stunning orgasm out of him.

They were both on the edge now. With a clever twist of his wrist Loki tipped them over into a noisy, mutual release. Tony’s knees gave out and he slumped gracelessly against his lover, who unfortunately was not as securely balanced as when they started their escapade. With an uncharacteristically startled noise, Loki shifted under him, Tony’s weight adding the momentum required to ensure they both tipped up, and they tumbled together into the lukewarm water of the fountain’s base.

A round of applause greeted their performance as they struggled to disentangle and rigt themselves. Yeah, that click definitely just happened and they were now even more infamous than before.

Tony would check the stats later, and an extra shiver of pride and arousal would climb his spine when he saw their semi-accidental sex tape was trending.

Practising My Porn: Oral Sex 1 (EXPLICIT)

WARNINGS: EXPLICIT, oral sex, sexual fantasy, male-male sex, 'Sherlock' Fanfic, John Watson/Sherlock Holmes

All the stories published as part of this series of posts were first published on Archive of Our Own, under the pen name of AbaddonsDaughter. They are published for fun, with no intention to make any money out of them. The characters are copyright to their originators and are borrowed here without intention to infringe copyright.

Summary:

Summary: A character considers the nature of mouths, and one mouth in particular.

Work Text:

That mouth! The perfect bow, sitting on the plushest cushion of a bottom lip he had ever seen on a man; on anyone. Such an expressive orifice too! Pouting, sulking, smirking, mocking, laughing, condemning, relaxed, slack in sleep, concentrating, huffing, teasing, licked by a tongue (never his, yet) and, very rarely, an ‘O’ of surprise or a genuine smile. . .

Add words, add the voice, and he might just come in his pants from the effect; the right words of course, said in the right way; breathy, passionate, rumbling, deep. Filthy words. Oh god, so filthy.

Then there is the tongue. Such a flexible appendage. Licking and lapping, curling or waggling, being stuck out; used in a childish battle of wills or to prise open his own mouth; parting his teeth, demanding and suggestive.

The teeth! Nipping and scraping, biting and nibbling. The roof; ribbed, breathing, sucking, wet and hot.

Oh God! All of these parts, applied in such a range of places; enough to make one’s breath catch, one’s eyes water and one’s cock swell and spill.

Later. For now that mouth is performing its most mundane function or devouring. Sweet, scarlet fruit is slurped and nibbled, savoured and swallowed. This is good; eating is erotic, when he does it. Talking too; sharing, teasing, humorous and incisive, intelligent and observant, tender and conspiratorial.

One day the whole of that mouth will be claimed, made his. Merely a matter of time. Inevitable.

Practicing my Porn - Introduction

I feel I need to practise my writing of sex scenes, so this is me doing that.

This all takes place in a very personal AU shared between myself and Jessie Blackwood; mixed genres and relationships from all over the place and is sometimes very canon divergent.

Work Text:

This is an experimental work for me. I struggle to write sex scenes (I'm shy like that) so this is me trying my best, and sometimes maybe getting it horribly wrong. Constructive criticism is invited, especially on . . . erm . . . 'technical' points and especially from male writers and readers of MM.

All of this takes place in a VERY Alternative Universe shared between myself and my co-author, BFF and sometime Beta, Jessie Blackwood. The AU in question has been in development for a number of years now and has veered away considerably from the various canons that have been absorbed into it.

A very good writer once told me that 'setting' was like an iceberg, only a tenth of their Universe background ever showed in what they wrote, and the same applies here. I will answer questions, but I won't be justifying anything about the AU, or the characters involved, which might seem weird, off, out of character or plain implausible. Trust me, the characters may not be as you think of them usually, but their behaviours and attitudes do make sense within the context of this AU and their histories therein.

All the stories published as part of this series of posts were first published on Archive of Our Own, under the pen name of AbaddonsDaughter. They are published for fun, with no intention to make any money out of them. The characters are copyright to their originators and are borrowed here without intention to infringe copyright.

If you dislike reading about sex or can't be doing with porn, smut, porn-without-plot (PWP), male-male sex etc. please don't hit on any of the other posts in this series.

Experiment #1.2

This is my second experiment in Place.

I am currently at my local library, same time of day as for Experiment #1.1.

I don't like this. I am tense, I can feel it in my shoulders. I feel unpleasantly overlooked.

I've just been catching up on my Open University course on Forensics. It's been a really good course and I am sorry this is the final week of it.

I can't say I have found the student interaction terribly convincing, though. It's been limited to just a few postings online, mostly ignored by peers, and seemingly not reviewed or marked either. Interaction with the course tutors has been pathetic, li,mited solely to summarising emails at the end of each week, which contain just enough of a feedback to evidence that they have read at least of couple of the thousands of posts people have made that week.

Not sure how the writing course will be in this regard.

I have nearly an hour left on this computer, but I am so uncomfortable that I am going to quit and go home shortly. Definitely scratch the idea of working in the local library as being part of my 'Place.



Here's a bit of observation for you (if I can manage it):

The large room, with it's high ceiling and loud but ineffective air conditioning unit, held over twenty closely-packed computer stations. Every place was filled at that moment, with a very wide range of peiople all beavering away. Earlier a woman was sat to his left who smelled quite horrible; she had sworn and grumbled for over half an hour because she couldn't get the website she was on to work properly. She had been trying to do some internet banking. Bad idea, in James' opinion, to be doing such a thing in a public space.

To his left sat a man in an orange, high-visibility jacket. He had on a grey woolly cap and a matching dingy jumper over dark jeans. He wasn't in work boots though, so maybe he was a supervisor rather than a working grunt. Now he looked, James realised his jacket was clean too, even though a bit worn, so this bespectacled man definitely hadn't been digging up any roads lately.

Somewhere over the other side of the room a phone was ringing. Of course the library had some 'Please Turn of Your Mobile Phone' signs dotted about, but people rarely bothered to observe such rules, in James' experience. Inconveniencing other people was better, obviously, than being yourself inconvenienced. At least the phone owner did everyone else the courtesy of not answering the call there and then.

At the head of the room, nearest to the door, was stationed the librarian. James knew her slightly, having been in to use the public computers on other occasions which had coincided with her shifts. She was in her forties, with a pleasantly rounded face and long, well-kempt, curly brown hair. She wore nailpolish too, despite working with her hands a lot. James liked her, but was way too nervous to ever ask her out. He guessed she was probably married anyway. He decided to look for a ring when he next went up to the desk to collect his printing; that was why he was here, he still hadn't managed to buy himself a printer, so when he needed hardcopythe library was where he ended up.


Wow, I managed it! I even managed my good deed for today too, helping high-vis man spell the word 'interest'. It was the verb he wanted, because he asked first for 'interesting', then changed to the shorter form. Unlike smell-woman he wasn't doing his banking, apparently. Maybe he was applying for a new job. If he was, I hope he gets it if it would be good for him.

That's me done with this post, so I will catch you all again soon, though not from the library!

Research on Whodunnit #1

"The FBI defines serial murder as: 

• A minimum of three to four victims, with a "cooling off" period in between;

• The killer is usually a stranger to the victim — the murders appear unconnected or random;

• The murders reflect a need to sadistically dominate the victim;

• The murder is rarely "for profit"; the motive is psychological, not material;

• The victim may have "symbolic" value for the killer; method of killing may reveal this meaning;

• Killers often choose victims who are vulnerable (prostitutes, runaways, etc.)"

"Statistically, the average serial killer is a white male from a lower-to-middle-class background, usually in his twenties or thirties. Many were physically or emotionally abused by parents. Some were adopted. As children, fledgling serial killers often set fires, torture animals, and wet their beds (these red-flag behaviors are known as the "triad" of symptoms.) Brain injuries are common. Some are very intelligent and have shown great promise as successful professionals. They are also fascinated with the police and authority in general. They have either attempted to become police themselves but were rejected, worked as security guards, or served in the military. Many, including John Gacy  . .  and Ted Bundy, have disguised themselves as law enforcement officials to gain access to their victims." 

http://www.crimelibrary.com/serial_killers/notorious/tick/victims_1.html 

if you intend to avoid the path of a serial killer, your best strategy is to sidestep the charming, the impeccably dressed, polite individuals. They blend in, camouflaged in contemporary anonymity.

http://www.crimelibrary.com/serial_killers/notorious/tick/1b.html 

Or, to reference 'The Addams Family', "What does a serial killer look like? Just like everybody else."

Humans seem to have been telling tales and issuing warnings about 'stranger danger' and killers hidden in plain sight for a long time. Is it a case of 'no smoke without fire'? Have there always been certain people who will engage in 'serial killer' behaviour?  I don't know. Maybe someone out there does?

The statistics show, though, that we are all far more likely to die at the hands of a 'loved one' or family member than an evil stranger.

The stranger is an unknown quantity. They enter our environment and we have no way to predict how they will behave or to know why they have come, other than general speculation, until we speak to them. Then they might lie to us. Strangers bring change, different views, discomforture.; they challenge our status quo. They are 'other'.

It is much easier to decide a stranger killed little Bobby after sexually assaulting him than to imagine his uncle or cousin harboring such a monster within themselves. If Bobby's relatives can't be trusted, we none of us are safe.

As an abuse survivor I can tell you that your village is full of monsters. I once went to a large conference. . . I was stood on a mezzanine gallery looking down on the crowd, alongside a fellow abuse survivor when he observed:  "It's so disturbing ; looking down and knowing there are at least five abusers down there".

Welcome to Royston Vasey.

Research on Motives #1

"During a child's development, there are important periods in which he learns about love, trust, empathy and basic rules about how to interact with other human beings. If these traits aren't imprinted upon the child during that period, it may not be possible for him to learn them later in life.
Serial killers were often physically or sexually abused as children or witnessed the abuse of family members. This pattern of neglect and abuse, some researchers say, leads serial killers to grow up without a sense of anyone other than themselves. But at the same time, many children grow up neglected and abused, but do not become violent criminals or serial killers."

http://people.howstuffworks.com/serial-killer3.htm

Apparently fiction's often-used 'not guilty by reason of insanity' doesn't wash in the real world, and only two people have successfully applied this to themselves. Likewise, meeting the definition of psychopathy is rare, apparently. Maybe we just like to think that 'normal' people could never some up with or execute the types of crimes that disturb us so thoroughly.


Too, it's important to note:

"Psychopaths are not insane -- they do know right from wrong. But this diagnosis may explain their behavior during their killing cycles."

 http://people.howstuffworks.com/serial-killer4.htm         

"Some researchers theorize that serial killers have brain damage or other biological abnormalities that contribute to their actions. Damage to areas like the frontal lobe, the hypothalamus and the limbic system can contribute to extreme aggression, loss of control, loss of judgment and violence."   

   http://people.howstuffworks.com/serial-killer4.htm 

Some types of serial killers listed at this site include:

Missionary Killer (goes after people they voew as wrongdoers, such as Prostitutes).
Lust Killer (goes after people whose torture or death will provide them with sexual gratification)
Thrill Killer (enjoys the excitement of the act of stalking and killing their victims)

"A serial killer keeps killing until one of four things happens: he is caught, he dies, he kills himself or he burns out." 

                                                                  http://peope.howstuffworks.com/serial-killer5.htm

Most researchers agree that there is no way to "cure" a serial killer. Some serial killers who spent time in mental institutions after committing their crimes or received psychiatric treatment were deemed "cured" and released, but they went on to kill again. 

http://people.howstuffworks.com/serial-killer6.htm 

Re. Experiment #1 - Place

I suspect this could be a piece of work that takes some time to complete, if it's to be done thoroughly. I've done my first experiment, though. I suspect my belief that I write best

1. mid-afternoon
2. ideally following a siesta
3. sat at my own computer

will be my conclusion once I have done sufficient experimentation.
.
There may be some value in working at the local library, where access to the computer is limited. It might mean I kick out more at a higher speed. Even if most of what I turn out is trash.

I do wonder, though -- how you know the difference between what is trash and what is gold? As a painter I know we are our own worst critics. I also know the temptations of over-working a piece. Sometimes you just have to let it go and see if it can fly. I suppose that is why we have Betas and Editors and Agents.

I love my Beta. I've yet to own an Editor or an Agent

Experiment #1.1

Okay, try out different scenarios to discover when and where you find it easiest to write.

This is Experiment 1.1. My head tells me that afternoons at my own computer are best for me, so I am trying it out to see if I am right. As such, this is going to be 'stream of consciousness' stuff., so don't expect anything earth-shattering.

Earth-shattering is a good place to look at, I guess. You see, I read tons of fan-fiction and currently my obsession is with the character of Loki, from Avengers Assemble. There are some really good (and frighteningly young) authors working in this genre. Loki tends towards 'earth-shattering' projects, but in the hands of fan-fiction writers he is also all about how our upbringing shapes us. The maturity with which some FF authors write is astounding, given their youth.


'Write what you know' is an oft expounded piece of advice given writers. How can that happen when what you want to write is basically stuff that is beyond anyone's experiences? Can only scientists write science-fiction? Do you have to be a nurse or a surgeon to write ER? No. You have to do your research, is my conclusion and experience.


This is me babbling, so how can it be of use to me in getting some proper writing down? I don't know yet. Maybe it can't? Maybe it can? What I read may indicate what I want to write? I like reading 'hurt/comfort', stuff about abuse survivors, stuff where people win against all odds. I'm not as addicted to happy endings as my co-author Jessie Blackwood, but I do prefer 'positive overall' and 'leaving a movie on a high' feelings. I guess I am a product of my teen years there, having found that effect with Star Wars and wanting it from every movie. Correction. 'film', not 'movie'. I speak and write in English, not American English!

Daniel Craig's Bond films give me that high-octane kick too. I suppose I like 'white hats' and 'black hats' and 'Love conquers all'. I did watch an awful lot of John Wayne and other cowboy films when I was younger. My Dad had an obsession with them, and with Sci-Fi, which he passed on to me. Sadly they don't seem to make 'proper' cowboy films now though. That worries me, because I wonder whether what I want to write is so far out of the popularity zone that I am pre-doomed.

See, I do appear to be quite productive at this time of day and in this setting.


I just had my alarm go off to tell me to take my medications. My blood sugar is 14.4 at the moment. I wonder whether blood sugar levels impact on when I write best? I suspect it's a contributing factor at least, since the blood sugar dictated my energy levels. It could be more significant than that though?

There are so many things that might be significant in optimising one's writing regime. I suppose too, 'practice makes perfect' is part of the effect. A person's head probably has a lot of junk it needs to blurt out before there is room for the good stuff? One of the writers from the latest course audio indicated as much. So me spewing up words like this has a purpose, perhaps?

Should I, though, inflict it on the rest of the world? That's a question often attached to painting, too. Is anyone listening anyway? Not at the moment, it seems. But then ego suggests every word is golden, every insight liable to change someone'a life at some future point when I am magnificently famous and have earned endless plaudits for my writing (and paintings).

Yeah, really...

Feedback on the Writing Course

I've enjoyed week one of the Open University writing course. So far, I have found this course very different to the Forensics course I am also doing through the OU. That course requires quite classic skills of research and analysis, whereas this one is much more oriented to being reflective and creative.

The task I found hardest was looking at the writing of others and seeing how they were portraying their characters. I also found it hard revising my own writing to try and take on board the things shown in that exercise.

The things I most enjoyed doing this week were parts 1.8 and 1.10. The first was about making notes, 'keeping track of useful details'. The second was comparing the genesis stories of several writers with your own. I was surprised how many things I did have in common with the other writers from the video in 1.10. Writing isn't a family thing for me, though. Neither of my parents, nor a far as I know any of my siblings, were interested in writing of any sort.

When I was at junior school my favourite teacher's most used phrase, when marking my English, was 'must write more'. I learnt to, in the end, but writing is still quite 'stop and start' for me. I have a good vocabuylary, I feel, and my grammar is acceptable. I spell well. These are positives, in my mind, Do I write well though? I can't judge it.

People Watching #1

So, here are some of my notebook ramblings, based on observing real people.

• Short female, Nice figure, Hair dyed red, with blonde highlights, a quality job. Perfect make-up -- eyeliner, fiercely-red lipstick, subtle silver eyeliner.

• An ex-con with masses of curly, brown hair. Black hoodie, pink cotton shirt, white T-shirt underneath, blue jeans and tan work boots, sunglasses buried in his curls. His cousin says he needs to be given only "idiot-proofed" tasks. "I got dis", says our mop-top. He is arrogant, considered unreliable even by his relatives, expected to fail or cock-up big style. Is it any wonder when he does?

• Plump woman, but not obese, 'heavy boned'? Short red hair, fu'gly glasses, red boucle cardigan over a white top, with unflattering brown trousers that point out her broad *rse. Interfering person who doesn't let her younger brother live his life his own way. 

• Woman in her late twenties attending an informal job interview. Neat black skirt and jacket with a collared, white cotton blouse. Long blonde hair held in a ponytail using a soft ffabric tie. Polite and attentive manner. Sharp nose. Subtle make-up, hardlty there.

• An older man, in his fifties maybe, with full lips, a flabby chin and flapping chops, like there's more skin than his head needs; it jiggles when he speaks. Steel grey hair, plenty of it, a whiter patch at the fringe. Black eyebrows. "I think that looks like ka-ka", he says, inspecting the apprentice's work.

• He's tall, with a cloud of white hair atop his tanned face. She too has cotton-wool hair, though she is easily a foot shorter than him. They look well-suited. Finished shopping, they are heading out, their shopping trolley, pushed by him, is home to just two bags. They brought their own bags with them; it's a military operation this, no nonsense, no extras, strictly what's on their list.

How And Why Do Writers Write?

This piece relates to an audio file from my FutureLearn course. Six authors reate their stories of how they came to write and then we are asked to say what parts of their tales we relate to. This is what I wrote:

I found it both interesting and a little disheartening to hear these authors stories. I don't have a highly literate family behind me, though I consider myself quite eloquent with written words, though not in speaking. I am horrendously shy around strangers.

The first speaker was closest to myelf I felt. I can relate to his background with comics and drawing. Expressing my cultural identity matters to me too when I write, as you may have seen if you have been to any of my blogs.

It's not been 'always there', either. I've expressed my storytelling in other ways than writing, and I suppose in that sense it has always been in me. I was a solitary child, and I made things up to amuse myself, often quite complicated alternate realities and complex adventures and relationships.

'Stumbling into it' and reacting to life changes, I guess I can relate to. I do that with my whole existence. Writing 'things', too, and then trying to connect them, rings bells. And I suppose uing writing as entertainment and therapy for myself does too. So I guess I'm not that different to these author after all.