I've been thinking about passion a lot lately.
Not a shocker, I know, for someone who – shall we say – has been swimming in a literary pornographic pool for quite a bit of time. But, bear with me, this pondering on my part may be worth your time.
Passion, in this case, has a lot to do with writing – but not necessarily about sex writing. Sure, I've written more than my fair share of bow-chicka-wow-wow fiction [see bio at the end of this] but having a passion for writing has zero to do with writing about ... well, passion.
Maybe it's where I've found myself but I'm concerned about passionate writing – not on my part, per se, but in lots of other places.
This all came to find when I put together my own humble contribution to the Coming Together project: Coming Together Presents M. Christian. Reading over all of the stories that make up the book – proceeds from, by the way, go straight to Planned Parenthood – I had a very odd feeling of ... coolness.
It's not that I'm not proud of what I write – far from it: in fact, many of the stories in my own collection for Coming Together I really consider to be my best. It's just that looking backwards at anything, let alone my writing, has never had any great allure. Every blue moon someone asks me to name my favorite story and, to be honest, I am totally flummoxed – usually resorting to the cliché, though very true in my case, "the one I haven't written yet."