I spent some time working on the novel. I am somewhat stuck. I am writing about sex–not just any sex but 17th century adulterous sex, from a woman’s point of view. Ugh. There is so little real information about what women were doing in terms of their sexuality that I am at a loss at times of how to describe it. Would they have been on top, for example, or was missionary style pretty much it? Would they have initiated sex or would they leave it up to the man? I just don’t know. And acutally, I think my main character doesn’t know either–how she feels about this sex thing. She wants it, enjoys it (with her lover at least) but worries a lot–about being caught by her husband, about being labelled a whore, about her lover just wanting her for the sex. Okay–probably not a lot different from the way women feel today. Glad we cleared that up. Now if I can just get that into a nice juicy sex scene that’s not too corny, I’ll be good.

I’m making a trip to the library tomorrow to get some books to read for the novel. Research usually helps me focus more. It’s hard to juggle so many things. A job that has nothing to do with what I’m writing, a life that includes children and husband and me, and the mom thing. I was saying to myself today that I should just buck up and finish the novel, but it’s hard. I’ve exhausted myself the last couple of days, reading and writing and thinking, that it’s just hard. Okay, now I sound like Bush.

The writing is going slower though. I was on a roll the last few weeks and now things have slowed down. I had hoped for 10 pages this weekend. I got 5. I guess that’s not so bad. I’ve vowed to write every night this week except Wednesday–the debates. And if anyone has suggestions for this sex problem, I’ll take them.