I, Mintie Price, do hereby acknowledge that this is a weird blog topic in front of God, blog subscribers, and all of womankind.
These past months have been wild. Nuts. Too much. I can’t remember the last time I had time to sit down and watch an entire movie, or enjoy anything except for the salty taste of tears on my cheeks. Delicious. Full-time work has been hellish, part-time work even more so, and Mintie-Price-work (which I love more than the taste of tears) has been crawling along like a soldier avoiding gunfire.
Which brings me to the subject of war.
Without time to sit on my butt, I’ve been enjoying Audible as a way to read without “reading.” Right now I’m working through 1776 by David McCullough, which is a historical novel about the American Revolution. (I’m having a year of War Related Entertainment for some reason).
If red coats and brown coats and cannons bore you, I’ll keep it out of the erotica blog for now. But one part of 1776 has stayed with me for weeks and given me much inspiration. It has fanned the tiny little fire in my sad campfire heart, preventing me from hypothermia.
The idea is about “clocking in” and “clocking out.” Sort of.
To the detriment of the British army stationed in America, someone (in Parliament? I forget who) said that there is a crucial difference between the British army and the rebel forces in America. The British army is there to accomplish a task. Their soldiers start and end their day as if it’s an ordinary job back home, like making handsome shoes or churning butter. But the American army, soon to be the Continental Army, never clock in and out. They’re never done with their job. When a task is completed, they ask “what’s next?” They’re fighting for own cause, rather than being hired to snuff out someone else’s cause as a professional soldier.
I feel this keenly with erotica; it never feels done. Even for my writing side-job work in the past, once I hit the word count, I’m finished. But with Mintie, there is always a Twitter feed to check, a blog to write, other erotica to read and review, and so on. I don’t clock out with my erotica work.
Hope slaps me across the cheek. My workaholic ethic is all perfectly worth it; I’m the Continental Army and it’s my country. There’s always a task to be accomplished, and there is no such thing as finishing a work day and going home.
If I spent as much time working out as I did writing erotica, I would have the firmest muscles in town. But instead, I have over 50k+ words written in shorts and blog posts popping out hither and thither. It makes me feel as if perhaps my rag tag army of shorts and tweets will somehow succeed to become something better: a whole dang country.
I hope that out there writing erotica, you also feel as if you are the Continental Army. Don’t feel finished when you hit that word count goal! Go out there and ask what else you can do for your country.