Reading is Fundamental…but it doesn’t always cut it.

I’ve noticed lately that something is missing.  It’s something powerful, creating urges I can’t quite quell. My heart and mind are searching, reaching out and testing the waters in areas I shouldn’t be.  I have been delving in the darkness. I couldn’t put my finger on what’s wrong or why, all of a sudden, this surge of uneasiness has bubbled up in my life. All I knew was something was missing.  Something calling my attention away from my day to day routine, begging for excitement. Today, alone in the early hours of the morning, I realized what it was.

If you know me at all, you know I’m a research hound. Even my license plate reads “LIV2LRN”.  I was born to keep my imagination stoked and my mind reeling in excitement.  I need to tackle a topic and delve in hard and fierce, learn everything I can, create a world and all its characters and spew it onto paper.  I cannot keep my wild, vivid imagination locked away, inactive, in my mind for very long.  It leads not only to anxious, worrisome obsessions, it leads to dissatisfaction.  It leads to trouble.

What I need is to write. So, with the new “50 Shades of Grey” phenomena making waves all over the place, I decided to dig out my character notebooks and I plucked Lynette from my vault of lives.  Lynette is just the one I need right now; a strong, vibrant woman going against the rules of Victorian London. Lynette is a whore.

Okay, so it probably doesn’t sound like the best voice to pull out of storage at this point in time, but Lynette is exactly what I need. With the success of Shades, it’s obvious it might just be what a lot of women need.  And not just the unf*^%able ones.  Experts say the success of the racy books – dubbed ‘mummy porn’ – has been driven by  ”frustrated middle-aged mothers.”  Of course, those experts are at the dailymail.co.uk.  More experts took a survey of 400 women – all aged between 25 and 50 -and found  43% of women would rather read about sex than perform it. Really? You’re doing it wrong.

“One respondent, who didn’t want to be named, said: ‘I’d much rather read about it then do it. It’s always exciting in a book and, unlike in real life, the hero never rolls off when he’s finished and starts snoring without so much as a cuddle.'”

What’s even MORE disturbing to me is this is article: “ ‘Mummy porn’ Fifty Shades Of Grey outstrips Harry Potter to become fastest selling paperback of all time.”  The article went on to say, “Last week alone, the first installment sold more than 100,000 paperback copies – a feat most of the Harry Potter books and all of the Twilight novels failed to achieve.”   Okay, I can see the Twilight saga, after all, that’s not much more than vampire porn, but I’ve read ALL the Harry Potter books at least three times.  I couldn’t get past the first five pages of Shades.  The writing doesn’t even compare.  JK Rowling is the queen of writing.  EL James is the slow child in the back of the room.  Okay, I know that sounds harsh, but really?  Are there THAT many “middle-aged mothers” out there that don’t know good writing when they find it? Paleeese!  I could write a better book with my eyes closed. Um, I mean, in my sleep. I mean, with one hand tied…oh, never mind. You get the idea.

Let’s get back on track.  Let’s get back to me.  Actually, let’s get back to Lynette.  Perhaps I should toss aside the historical novel Lynette took a backseat in and put her right out there in the spot light.  Give those frustrated middle-aged mothers something to read that isn’t filled with, to quote Shades, crap.  I suppose that’s what got me thinking about ole’ Lynette, that strong-willed prostitute.  She’s not stupid.  As a matter of fact, she achieved something these “mummy porn” readers haven’t.  She’s come to the understanding that sex isn’t something that can be confined to paper.  She knows she’s sexy and uses it to her advantage.  And why not?  While many Victorian prostitutes were not in the profession on their own accord, many others took control of their own fate. In a world where women worked 12-14 hours a day then came home to filthy, overcrowded, disease ridden basements, prostitutes often chose the profession as an easier alternative.  If they worked for a house, they received better health care, ate well, and wore nice clothes.  Who wouldn’t rather have a bed with sheets, receive gifts and…well, let’s face it, have sex all day long.  Unless, of course, you’d rather be reading about it.

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