Can’t Get It Out of My Head

I am deliberately ripping off a song title today because I’ve been listening to Electric Light Orchestra for a couple of days, and I’m currently listening to a concert they performed in Osaka in 1978, and that particular song just finished.  Which gave me the idea for what to write today, as well as the title.  See?  Inspiration comes from all sources.  You just have to know when to grab it when it pops up.

The little story that I’ve been working on, Fantasies in Harmonie, isn’t so little any more.  It was suppose to be quick and smutty, a nice piece of naughty erotica that would sell quickly and overtake all that other stuff on Smashwords and Amazon that pass for hot writing.

Alas, it’s no longer little.  Two night ago I wrote a bit over twelve hundred words; last night I wrote just under twelve hundred words.  That’s like a third of a short story right there, and it only covers one transformation and one scene of one of my characters sorta, kinda, actually playing with her lady bits.  Twenty-four hundred words of fantasy and sexiness, for one person.

Oi.  They should all be in bed together right now, and I’m sitting at ninety-seven hundred words with maybe another ten thousand to go?  Some smut writer I am.  I think Gore Vidal had the same problem, so I got that going for me.

The story continues, and I’m at least getting into the stuff that’s suppose to be in erotica, which is the sex.  Then I push through that, then I finish up the story, and then . . .

Yeah, what then?

See, here’s the problem:  I’m working on this story, and I’ve got like half a dozen things rolling about in my head at the same time.  It’s likely one of the big distractions I’m having with Fantasies, because when I should be thinking about this story that was going to be written more as a lark than anything else, I’m thinking about what story I should edit next to prep for publication; I’m looking at Create Space so I can offer physical copies of my new novel, Her Demonic Majesty (available in fine ebook versions everywhere); I’m thinking about stories that haven’t moved out of the world building stage–

It’s this last that’s really driving me nuts, because the characters are there, wanting to come out and be made whole, and I’m busy getting Dagny, Brittany, and Skyller all heated up so they can do some nasties and write about it later.  (Writers: they’re all so damn kinky, doncha know?)  Then when I have a break in the action–which is most of the day, actually–my mind wanders back to a place I’m calling Sigle, and before you know it I’m thinking about what I should do with certain characters, and what events will shape their lives–

I should really be thinking about mecha battles and the such, because that’s also a story I want to write.

What’s a girl to do?  Well, writing would be a start . . .