Asshole, I’m Coming

Have you ever tried eating your favourite food for a couple days straight? The first day, you’re enjoying that beautiful texture and your belly is having a party downstairs, because the taste is that good. The second day, you’re still happy about it, but it tastes more stale, less delicious. The third day, you’re hunched over a toilet praying for this hell to end.

Yeah, I’m on day three. Of writing.

I’ve been diligently working on filling in the obvious blanks in my story, like the part where I accidentally jumped straight to the PG13 sex scene, skipping all the verbal sparring and awesomeness that act as literary foreplay. Or when I showed my characters doing a dangerous activity, and then skipped ahead to dinner time, where they’re arguing over who’s the most sarcastic. Little booboos like that. Now, I’ve only got two more blanks to fill and…nothing.

The well of rude sarcasm in my soul has run empty; the voices of assholes no longer echo in my ears; I’ve even run out of dirty jokes! Do you understand what a sad state of affairs it is when you imagine a guy taking out his penis and can’t think of any embarrassing quips?

*Generic male takes off trousers and stands, hands on his hips*

“Nice penis,” says the imminent sexual partner. 

NO! Comebacks must exist, like:

“Awww, what a cute little baby -maker” or

“What are you waiting for? Show me the goods!” or

“Oh dear, is that normal?” or

“Oh! The horror! The absolute fucking horror! The one-eyed cyclopes has come to devour my vagina! Call Odysseus to save my cave of wonders!”

Really, who just stands there, looking into the dude’s eyes when a penis is present? You either stare at the penis until the guy blushes in humiliation and runs away, or you take out a quip from your overgrown patch of pubic hair. There is no alternative- unless you’re one of those weirdos who can actually be sexy. In that case…give me a call sometime, maybe?

With regards to my little problem (yeah, haha, very mature, guys), I thought that a possible solution would be for me to get out in the world and interact with people such that my dialogue-creating skills become more authentic.


No, I chose the less emotionally-healthy option and did a quickie- an editing quickie. Instead of going line-by-line through my draft, I skimmed it to remember what my character’s voice sounded like, so I could finish writing those two scenes left to me (AKA, the sex scene and the action scene).

Normally, editing is a good thing…until the purpose of your editing is to muster up enthusiasm for finishing your first round of editing. Then, your lack of motivation decomposes into pure self-hatred. Seriously, who writes this kind of stuff? At one point I was trying to sound epic, and instead, what came out was: “When death comes, we must be ready to meet it or else- uh oh spaghetti-o!”


The only solution left is to sit my ass down, put on my writing music and become the hair-flipping asshole I was always meant to be. Both inside and outside of bed.

So, what do you do when your well of creativity runs dry? Let me know in the comments!


3 thoughts on “Asshole, I’m Coming

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