You Can’t Tell Anyone the Truth

That life is so hard you think you’ll die from how much it hurts to just live through a day and get your kids to school and not be a complete piece of shit all the time–just a partial piece of shit.That you love your kids so fucking much, and you know that you’re failing them every day.

That long weekends are hell because you all have to be together as a family for an extra day. And the Saturday night after Thanksgiving you think: well, only tomorrow left, and you just have to survive that.

That since having kids, your week has flip-flopped and Sunday is the new Friday, and Friday is the new Sunday: full of dread and anticipation. And Saturday is Monday: just the longest slog. And Monday is Saturday: one big sigh of relief.

Do people really live like they do in ads and on Facebook and in casual social encounters? I think maybe they do. I think we must be freaks. If we’re not, and this is how people really live, lots of us…I don’t even know what that means.

Correspondence: On Smut

Regarding smut and its ability to slip in: as you might have guessed, I have no problem with that! I love smut and I think it serves a number of readers’ needs beyond tittilation. Or perhaps I should say, tittilation serves more needs than it gets credit for.

One of the weirdest things I’ve noticed about smut recently is that reading it can actually be comforting and soothing-have you ever felt that way? I think it evokes a deep, primal connection that so many people are starved for. For women especially, who do so much of the emotional work in a family, romance and erotica can help refill emotional reservoirs.