Author’s Note: I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: when you can’t think of anything else to write… Write about how you can’t think of anything else to write.
Works every time. 😘
“What sucks, babe?”
“It’s like, almost nine already… and I haven’t written anything yet today.”
“So? Quit your whining and sit your ass down at the keyboard.”
“Huh! Here I come and lay my head down in your lap and all I want is a little support, and you…”
“Yeah, yeah, with the guilt trip. You’re the one wants to be a writer. So, write!”
“But I just wanna… want you to keep stroking my hair like that.”
“You like when I stroke your hair, baby?”
“You know I do…”
“Mmmm. I do.”
“So… why you askin’?”
“Do my rhetorical questions make you suspicious?”
“Is that because you’re so used to curling up in my lap while I stroke your hair and ask you things until you’re deep in trance?”
“Well… is… issat what you’re doing?”
“Silly. Is that what you want?”
“Do you want to shut your eyes and sleep for me?”
“What do you say?”
“Yes please, what?”
“May I please… close my eyes… n’sleep… f’you…..”
“You may, pet.
“Close your eyes, and sleep.
“That’s right. Dropping right deep down when I snap my fingers. Deeper and deeper for me. Good, baby. So good.”
“Shhhh, that’s right. That’s right, pet, so deep now. So deep. Feeling so good. Mind open and obedient to my every suggestion.
“Soon we’re going to go to the bedroom. But first, you’re going to take all your clothes off, and your hands will float up in front of you, and you’ll walk to bed like my dreamy little sleepwalker.
“Would you like that, pet?”
“Good, that’s right, baby. Deep, so deep for me now. And first, before you take off all your clothes, you’re going to awaken at the count of five, and feel yourself flushed with creative energy.
“And you just won’t be able to resist the urge… the need to sit down at the table with your laptop, and write something sweet and sexy for me.
“Knowing, as you press every key, as you type every word, that you’re such a good little writer-pet for me, and I’m so happy and excited to see what you invent.
“And once your writing is done… you get to be my helpless sleepwalking slave. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right. Good, pet. So, so good. And now, I’m going to count, slowly, from one to five…”