March 17, 2016
I wondered how to write about sexuality. It was a few weeks later. I was lying on the bed in my room. Summer light filtered through the window. I had read Henry Miller and D.H. Lawrence, both wonderful writers. But I felt the former was gross and the latter was class-bound. How could I write about what happened between men and women naturally?
I also wondered about what to write. It was a subject mostly censored. Aside from Miller and Lawrence, the only ones I knew who had explored this were writers of pornography. I thought their work was dull, what little I had read. Would I write only about lovemaking itself?
Finally, I wondered what form the book would take?
I sat up, snatched a paper and pen and began to write a scene about a girl named Marthe. She was imaginary.