I'm a writer. I write m/m erotica. Kind of dark stuff, even though in real life I like rainbows and puppies and kittens. Not all at once though. That would be overwhelming.
How often to we get so distracted by daily living, that we forget to actually live?
Only today I got this in an email from J.A. Rock: But how do you live right next to the Great Barrier Reef and never mention it?!
To which my answer has to be: Meh. It's some coral and some pretty fish. Seen one natural wonder of the world, you've seen them all.
Familiarity hasn't bred contempt, exactly, but it has bred a kind of shitty lazy attitude, and brings me, kind of, to something I was thinking the other day: Why have I never set a book where I live?
I live in tropical North Queensland, Australia. It has palm trees and oceans and reefs and rainforests and shit. People pay a lot of money to visit places like this. They buy postcards, and t-shirts, and, inexplicably, stuffed cane toads.
I think that it's about time I tried being a tourist in my own town, and saw it through fresh eyes. Because, guess what? It's kind of nice:
If you guys are wondering what brought this on, it's that J.A. Rock who is currently fighting the forces of Mordor in NZ, is heading to Australia in November. So yay!
I guess she doesn't just exist on the internet after all.
Also, I guess I should clean my house.