Thursday, June 18, 2015

Desperately trying to regain my mojo

Yes, I am desperate. Days pass where I do nothing more than stare at my manuscript waiting for . . .something. I wish I knew what! So, back to excerpts, in hopes that it will kickstart me into writing something, anything. I cannot afford to be picky at this point!

So, from Onna Bugeisha (the book that stubbornly resists being written) . . .

Afternoons in the pleasure district are lazy, leisurely affairs. In this closed world of women the highlight of the day is gossiping the long hours away in the baths. From the outside the willow world appears to slumber behind its walls, recovering from the revelries of the night before. In reality, this is the most cherished part of the day, when hopes and dreams are laid bare and all eventualities are possible. The arrival of a curtained palanquin during these hours was unexpected enough to set all tongues wagging. When that palanquin stopped outside a teahouse known for unconventional sexual practices, curiosity overcame all rivalries. Women who normally passed without so much as a nod of acknowledgment put their heads together and whispered ever more outlandish theories. The only thing the pillow girls could agree on was no one recognized the heavily veiled woman who slipped from its curtained privacy into the teahouse. Her wealth was obvious, hair impeccably coifed and clad in a kimono worth more than all of them combined. Why such a person would visit that particular house was debated in ever rising voices. The most obvious answer, a husband with habits no decent woman could stomach, was almost immediately discarded. Such a refined creature would no more discuss such things than she would run naked through the streets. Most wives negotiated their husband's liasons through scrolls and servants, even the most mundane. The lack of subterfuge had all the women on edge. Something darker was obviously at work.
Inside the shadowed confines of the teahouse Jun proceeded to plead his case. Using all the skill he had acquired in his time onstage, he struck just the right balance between misery and vengeance, hoping to sway the proprietor to his side.
“He swore we were eternal lovers. And then he abandoned me.” A delicate handkerchief disappeared behind the veils to dab at watery eyes. “Now I am spoiled for any other.”
“Why come to me? There are many houses that would love to have a lady of your refinement. My customers have perverse tastes. Your delicate sensibilities will enflame them to greater outrages just to see your reaction.”
“I have no choice,” Jun explained in a breathy whisper. “I cannot allow another inside, and I have no wish to become enamored of any man. I am willing to be used as men use each other. Would you have customers interested in such things?”

1 comment:

  1. Dear Sessha, It is a mystery to me why you, of all people, need mojo. You ARE mojo. Your writing always, always inspires me: incisive, like a stiletto; arch, like a sly courtesan; tense, like an ereection before the explosion.

    Just write any damn thing, and go back later to sort it all out. This is a great start! ~Erin