You know, being a writer is kind of weird. It means that I have these….people in my head. Usually, it’s like a boardroom in my brain with all the characters crowded around a big table demanding attention. But sometimes, they sneak up on me. One of my publishers had an open submission call for an anthology and a character tapped me on the shoulder.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Hey! You could totally write me for that.
ME: Who are you?
NAMELESS FEMALE: Seriously. I would fit in this anthology. I’m a female dominant.
ME: Um, that’s not what this anthology is about.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Oh, I know. Don’t worry. I’m a female dom who doesn’t know I’m gay.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Yeah, my parents were—well, let’s just say I’m as fucked up as all your other characters.
ME: Greeeat. *sarcasm*
NAMELESS FEMALE: Okay, so let me give you the run down. I’m totally dominant. A bitch dom. All the subs know I’m hell on wheels–cold and controlled. It’s all good, except that I get turned on, but I don’t get off.
ME: No orgasms? But…wouldn’t you be aware you had some issue? I mean, that’s pretty intense.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Oh come on. You know there’s tons of women in the world who never have an orgasm and don’t know any better.
ME: But as a female dom, you would have topped women. Wouldn’t you KNOW you liked women better.
NAMELESS FEMALE: No. See, I was all about the power, the control, not the sex. Some people are like that. It’s about denying someone the ultimate release. It’s about setting the pace, being the one in charge. I never thought of it in terms of gender.
ME: Fantasies, though. Wouldn’t you have fantasies about women instead of men?
NAMELESS FEMALE: I had fantasies about being a dom. Don’t complicate it.
ME: (offended) Me? I’m not complicating it. You’re the one who says you’re fucked up. Telling me WHY you’re fucked up might be a good start.
NAMELESS FEMALE: *thinking* Well, I can give you a little bit, but you’re not my damn therapist.
ME: Color me grateful.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Do you want to know or not.
ME: Lay it on me, honey.
NAMELESS FEMALE: Okay. They were like the Stepford family. If you didn’t “fit in” and “act normal” then they didn’t love you.
ME: So you went kinky as revenge?
NAMELESS FEMALE: I’m all about control, babe. And there’s not enough control in vanilla sex. I wanted to be in charge and I wanted someone to suffer for it. I’m a bit of a masochist, but I like the power released, not the actual punishment.
ME: Back to your family. Were they homophobes or something?
NAMELESS FEMALE: *looks uncomfortable* Um. Look can’t you just take my word for it that I denied that part of me? That I didn’t know that I was a lesbian?
ME: For now, I guess. Do I have a choice?
NAMELESS FEMALE: Nope. It’s really not that tough, you know. I don’t realize it but then I see Sharon–
ME: Who the hell is Sharon?
NAMELESS FEMALE: *heavy sigh* Sharon is the one who makes me see that I’m a lesbian, that I really want a woman, not just a submissive.
ME: *exasperated* And how exactly does she do that?
NAMELESS FEMALE: Oh, let’s save SOMETHING for when you’re in the middle of the book. I don’t want to give it all to you right now.
ME: *sarcasm* Oh no. We wouldn’t want to do THAT. *sigh*
NAMELESS FEMALE: Oh don’t pout or I’ll beat you. Wait, you’d like that. Never mind. *in a cajoling voice* I’ll help you write the proposal.
ME: *heavy sigh* Alright. But just remember, I can write you right into some serious angst if you don’t behave.
NAMELESS FEMALE: You’re not threatening me are you?
ME: I’m the writer, chicky. Don’t fuck with me.
NAMELESS FEMALE: *laughs* Okay. At least, if I do you’ll enjoy it. I promise.
ME: Okay, so, this proposal?
NAMELESS FEMALE: Erica. Call me Erica, babe. We’re going to be spending some time together.
Welcome to my brain.