I sat down yesterday with a pen and paper and tried to figure out how I’m going to get everything done in the next month that I want to get done. Holy crap for Krisco. I won’t be blogging very much. But I am working on part two.

It’s hard to figure out how to tell this story. I still know a lot of these people and I like them. I think the most important thing for me to do with this is not try to tell exactly what happened because memories differ and get a piss off an awful lot of people but if I make it just different enough that obviously it’s not precisely what happened then maybe people won’t hate me. Part of how I am doing this is amalgamating people. It’s kind of funny to look around in my mind and who are the people who were really important to me when I was 18 in 19. How can I combine them into useful characters without making everyone hate my guts. How can I tell the truth?

I don’t need to write exactly what happened to day by day because that is the point. The point is that I was a very damaged person and I managed to find a very safe environment in very specific ways. It was only safe because I consciously and deliberately needed safe. It was also an area of great risk.

My experience of the sex community was that these were not the beautiful people. I want to write about them honestly because I don’t think the world needs another book about how pretty everyone is while they have sex. I’m not pretty. Yet when I showed up at the public BDSM community I was thinner and a lot prettier than most of the other women there. I want to honestly describe the people I knew without making them feel bad about themselves. I want to write about people of lots of different sizes and colors without being an asshole.

Well, time to go run.