You Wrote That Where?

Actually, I write everywhere. I always have a notebook on me; I get twitchy if I’m too far away from a pen and paper. So when I said I wrote the blow-job scene for the Round Robin in line for Pirates of the Caribbean at Walt Disney World, I wasn’t kidding.

And that wouldn’t be the only blow-job or sex scene I’ve written while hanging with The Mouse. I love Disney World. We go at least once a year, but at some point the santitized fun needs a little subverting. I can only listen to so many toddler tantrums while in line. Sometimes I even get disappointed if the lines are too short. What’s better than writing my favorite kind of story in my favorite place to be? Over the years, I figure I’ve done at least a novel’s worth of writing while weaving along the convoluted queues.

This year I ran into an unexpected hazard and not just because my notebook was a magic charm to get the bus to come as soon as I set pen to paper. No, this was far more perilous. One gorgeous day, I sat on a bench in Hollywood Studios waiting for the new parade to start, scribbling away on my new story. Street performers taking on exaggerated personas from 1930’s Hollywood entertained the preparade crowds. One performer in the guise of a director came over and, despite my protests and desperate clutch, ripped the notebook from my hands and said he was going to read it. He flipped through several pages.

But I was saved from permanent banishment from the wonder that is WDW because my tiny scrawl is more indecipherable than a doctor’s--and because Aaron and Joey hadn’t done it yet. I don’t know exactly how disguised the word cock would be even in my hummingbird scratch.

So did the character's prying curtail my porning efforts? Not at all. I came home with a good start on my new book and a deep resolve never to try to write more neatly. I don’t know which characters’ exploits will grace the pages of my notebook on our Christmas trip, but I’m thinking about tying the notebook around my neck.