Posted by: Matt Y | 09/01/2012


So I’m on my final story of seven stories, and I know what I was to write about.  I’m not sure what to call it yet, but the story is about a woman who works in a whorehouse in Texas, one that is both known by locals and also sort of on the down-lo, like everyone knows about it but it’s an institution.  There was actually a famous one in Texas that existed until the 70s called The Chicken Shack.  It got its name during the depression, when times were tough they exchanged sexual favors for chickens, and ended up trading eggs and chicken for other things they needed because they had so many chickens.

Down the Google hole I go into research.  Getting information on brothels, how they’re run, set up, insider terminology isn’t easy.  How did any writer do this before the internet?

So I’m writing from a female perspective, for the first time, while trying not to be disrespectful towards women, but writing about a whore, and I haven’t exactly written much in the was of intimacy.  So this is going to be a fun experiment all around before I get into the weird stuff.

The weird stuff is this; the woman is at the top of her game for the house, right under Madame, and enjoys being the top worker in the place.  In fact she enjoys the job because she’s good at it, not (just) the sex part, but the part were she works the client in different roles.  Then they get another member.  As a favor for someone they take in a new girl who was injured at another job and lost her hand.  Disability doesn’t cover much and she needs the money.  So she works there.  No threat really to the established order of things.

Then it turns out the girl has Phantom Limb Syndrome.  Only she not only feels like she has a hand, her clients feel it too.  Soon she becomes the center of attention, even getting a whole new set of clients coming in, driving the main chick nuts to the point where she gets her hand amputated too.

Then the other girl gets another limb cut off.  The main does as well and it becomes a game of chicken.  Meanwhile it turns out there’s a whole sub-fetish just for this, made up of the rich and powerful who are willing to pay to be touched by something otherwordly, to see some proof that there is mystery out there (and for some reason to then fuck it).

So they’re making money and the Madame doesn’t stop them.

Eventually they fight.  That’s right, I’m going to end it in a stump fight.

I know where it’s going, I know the build, and the characters, but this beginning is fucking rough man.  I want to power through it, to finish this bizarre ass story and complete my book (or at least finish the pre-pre-pre-edit version) but I’ve been staring at the fucking screen for the last hour pulling words out of my brain like pulling teeth.  Grrr.  So I’m writing this just to get some words moving, hoping it jump starts me, but in reality just procrastinating.


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