I've been doing alot of thinking about writing. Seriously writing. Writing stories and such has always been a dream of mine, and I think, now that I have alot of time on my hands, that I am going to start working at it. I am badly out of practice, but I figure a little practice will only help me out. Here's hoping.

I will probably find myself using this blog as not only a place to discuss BDSM, my submission, and my life, but also as a place to work out article ideas and other such writing type thoughts. I tend to think about so many different things, and I tend to lose them if I don't write them down or somehow record the thoughts for later development into articles or poems or short stories or whatever. So I think this blog could be a great help in that area.

Things here have been going pretty well the last couple of days. Except for the severe pain in my back today, that is. I went out with Ron for a while today. We ran some errands and ended up doing a great deal of walking in the process. But we were able to scout out some Christmas present ideas, as well as look at wedding rings for when we do get married. He chose a beautiful one for me, and it's even the kind of ring I've always wanted. I was quite surprised that his taste for a ring on my hand was so similar to my desired style. It was a very sweet and warm moment for both of us I think. We will be doing more talking with the children, of course. I, for one, am still concerned with taking their feelings into account. I do not expect complete acceptance or overwhelming joy at the prospect of the marriage, but am not willing to force acceptance if the complaints are of a very intense and deeply emotional nature where forcing such acceptance would backfire on us into resentment. I do not want to hurt his children, or my own. Thankfully my son is quite young, and he just adores Ron, so he has no complaints. LOL

My back has caused me to feel rather guilty today. I know it's not "right" to feel guilt over my back and the limitations it sets on me, but I don't seem to be able to stop those feelings. I am, however, not falling into a depression or anything over them. They also do not last very long. Mostly I feel guilty about saddling Ron with the restrictions my back will set upon certain aspects of our relationship. I sometimes feel that he deserves someone who doesn't have to spend a couple days a month sitting in bed because she can't walk. However, he understood what the restrictions were before we got involved, so I know he accepted those restrictions. He does not feel the least bit cheated by any of this. Which is a good thing. I don't feel cheated as much as once in a while I feel frustrated. I get so tired of pain. The whole idea of having another surgery scares the bejesus out of me too! I'm tired of being cut open, dealing wiht recovery, physical therapy, and exercises. Not to mention braces and bed rest with initial recovery. Oh well, I will deal with it I'm sure. It's not like this will be my first back surgery, and it probably won't be anywhere near my last one either. But I can hope it will be one of the last ones.

One of the things that continues to run through my mind is the bit about listening and how important it is to effective communication. I think it's sticking in my craw because I know I left it out of my original article on communication. And communication is such a neccessity in BDSM relationships, or any other kind of relationship for that matter. I am going to have to rewrite that article soon or these thoughts are going to drive me nuts! Sometimes that is how I write. Things spring almost completely written to my mind, and they pester me until I write them down. When that happens I can usually sit down and just type as fast as I can to get the thoughts out, then play clean up fixing spelling errors, grammatical errors and moving paragraphs around so the article or story or whatever flows better without seeming to be stilted or limping along. When my writing goes like that, just BOOM and it's done, then I know it will be a pretty good piece of work. I love when that happens to me, because it is such a rush. The desire to write is so intense it literally becomes a driving force that does not stop pushing at me until I get the words out. The act of writing the words, either by hand or in the computer, brings with it an amazing emotional release, that is almost physical at times. When the peice is finished, I get a very intense feeling of satisfaction as well as awe. Usually the awe comes about if the piece basically wrote itself in a short period of time. I'm always amazed when I manage to write a 6 page short story in under 2 hours and most of it is pretty darn good. Or when i have sat down and just wrote out 5 or 6 poems in 30 minutes. Poems that are amazingly clean in their rough draft state. It is at these times when I will sit back and wonder what the hell is inside me. Some people understand this need to write, and the rush that comes with it, and the ability for articles, stories, and poems to literally write themselves. As well, they can understand the pushing desire to write that is so strong is consumes almost all conscious thought until it is released. simi understands this, and she writes in the same manner sometimes. I found that fascinating as well as reliving to know. Knowing someone else feels/thinks/writes in a very similar (or duplicate) manner as I do, made me feel OK because I'm no longer alone with those feelings. I'm not "unique" or "weird". Well, ok, maybe I am weird, but at least I have good company here in the weirdo corner.

Ron is extremely supportive of my writings and I appreciate that so much. He believes in me, and believes I have talent. I like knowing that he believes in me. I'm not so sure about the talent part being as big as he thinks it is. I do think that I have a little talent and can write half way decently, which is alot better than some people I've seen who are actually being published! Ahhh that's my dream though. To be published. A book with my name on it as the author. But I think that's every writer's closet dream. And I think there are alot more writers in the world than people realize. With the internet being such a big deal, and the craze to build web sites, I think it has become an outlet for those closet writers to write. There are hundreds (if not thousands) of sites dedicated to writings be they poems, prose, short stories, or any other form of writing. Web sits about the mechanics of writing, how to submit for publication, where to submit for publication and sites that are basically a gallery of the site owner's writings. I've been to hundreds of sites that contain original pieces of writings in all kinds of genres, and am constantly amazed by the amount of truly enjoyable writing to be found on the web. I'm also amazed at the amount of bad writing that can be found as well. But good or bad, the writing is out there, and people are reading it. It takes alot of courage to put one's private works on display on a web site. You're literally placing your thoughts and ideas, pieces of yourself, out in public for review. Thus you face the possibility of rejection, and rejection is difficult to deal with. I've found though that some rejections are not all bad. Those people who review one's work, and send their comments that include such things as ways to improve the peice or other such constructive criticism have helped me to write better in many ways. But the one thing that has greatly improved my writings skills is to simply write. Write all kinds of things, whenever the mood strikes or even when it doesn't. In this way I practice sentence structure, thought processes, placing those thoughts in logical order, or at least a readable order, selecting words, editing to cut out superfelous words, and so many other little things that seperate a bad peice of writing from a competent one. Even these blogs are an accessory to that writing practice. And I think a very good one too.

Well that's about it for what's running through my mind tonight. So I'll just stop here.

Things to smile about: a rainbow, a warm sweater on a cold autumn morning, the giggles of a 4 yr old child, the emotion behind a personal dream, the hope of realizing a dream