Category Archives: Writing

Nudist Fiction: My Dilemma

I’ve realized that my “___-Word Story” series doesn’t mean anything. It’s the literary equivalent of a sugar rush: brief satisfaction followed by a feeling of What did I just do?

Image result for eating sugar gif

To go into more detail:

One of the subjects I write about on this blog is nudity.

Specifically: Nudists. I write stories about people who go naked, and have written about the times that I myself have gone naked.

The reason why is: I find people who go naked fascinating.

The reason why is: “Wear clothes” is a near-universal rule in any family and any society. And yet, such people say “No.”

I don’t see nudists as rebels. But, such peoples’ choice to go without clothes goes against the grain. And I want to know what drives a person to make such a choice, and what they learn about themselves, others, and the world around them, as a result of being naked.

Only, I often find myself disappointed. I get the impression that a number of people only go naked in order to more easily pleasure themselves sexually.

That’s where I come back to me writing about nudity: I feel like I’m writing stories for a reason that is equally shallow.

For example: My most recent story:

The night I sleep naked, I am told, “You sleepwalk.”

Reading those words again, I think What does that even mean?

Nothing.

At least, not to me.

sigh

Looking back on all my writing about nudity over the years, “I Have Found It” is the one piece I can honestly say I am proud of.

Everything else just… bleh. It doesn’t feel right.

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I want to do right by people who choose to go naked.

It’s my duty as a Catholic to see the humanity in all people, regardless of what they are or aren’t wearing:

“‘Whatever you did to the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did to me.’”
~ Matthew 25:40

And, ultimately, I don’t see that happening when it comes to 99.9% of my writing on nudity.

Change is coming.

By the grace of God, it will be the change I need. Whatever that may be.

On a final note:

Thank you to the beautiful woman who made the photo used in this post possible.

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The Garden

Picking a flower from the garden
I know there is a world out there for me

Woman

These words are slightly different than words in “Arrietty’s Song” by Cecile Corbel (an instrumental version of which is below) which was the first thing that came mind when I saw the piece of art posted above:

Thank you to the beautiful little girl who made the piece of art used in this post possible.

Why I Won’t Be Finishing “Wild Child”

I won’t be finishing “Wild Child,” a short story I was writing about a mother and her child who live in nature, and what happens to them when they encounter civilization.

The reason why is: I realized I was writing for the wrong reason.

To explain:

3 years ago, I dropped out of university.

And this fall, I enrolled at a community college, in order to pick up where I had left off; in order to receive an education that would allow me to put bread on the table.

And in all that time, I feel like I’ve been running away.

I’ve been trying to escape from my struggles. Even if I know that, ultimately, my struggles will make me a better person.

And, I found my “escape” in fellow blogger sunshine lou.

Her writing about being naked in nature is what gave me the idea for “Wild Child.”

Her writing awakened a longing in me. A longing to be, in her words, “Naked and free.”

I didn’t want to just be free from clothes and out in nature — I wanted to be free from the struggles that were sapping my love for life, and get away from a mindset (“I’m a failure because I dropped out of college”) and an environment (college) that were causing me to hate myself.

And, I’ve realized: That’s no way to live.

What I mean when I say “That’s no way to live” is:

Through my writing, I shouldn’t try to express an experience (being a woman naked in nature) that is not my own because, ultimately, my words won’t be authentic.

I’ll never be Lou, and I shouldn’t try to be.

I need to learn to not hate the struggles that have made me the person I am today. I need to love myself for all that I am.

And that won’t happen if I keep on wishing I was someone else.

Wild Child — Update

Upon reflection, I believe that Part 7 of “Wild Child” is not up to the standard I’m setting for myself. One reason why being: Part 7 illustrates the drawback of writing a story on the fly.

To explain:

I have a vague idea of the story’s plot points, but “Wild Child” has essentially just been me writing whatever part of Thorn’s story I wanted to write next; me writing the first words that come to mind whenever I think Wild Child. And Part 7, I believe, shows that more than any of the other parts.

To go into more detail:

Part 1 sets up that this story is Thorn telling her mother, Skye, how she found herself in possession of a scarf, and what this contact with civilization means for the two of them.

But: Part 5 is written from the point of view of Skye. Something that Thorn would know nothing about since she is off in a castle and Skye is in their cave, wondering what to do. So, Part 5, in the context of Part 1, currently makes no sense.

So:

Over time I’ll be revising what I have already written and doing a better job of planning exactly what I want to happen in this story.

Thank you, everyone, for reading.

May it be a story you enjoy.

And: Feedback of any kind is always appreciated.

One more thing:

Despite this being a story about a naked little girl and a naked woman — a child and her mother in nature in their natural state — this isn’t a “dirty” story.

What I mean by that is: If you’re reading this story in order to think lewd thoughts and then do lewd acts, you’re in the wrong place.

Yes, there is nudity.

Yes, there might be sex. (Haven’t decided yet.)

But: My goal with all of it is to move the story along in some way. Not to put it there just for the sake of being there.

For example: Skye is naked, and she raises her daughter to be naked, because she doesn’t want anything to do with civilization anymore. She wants to put her old life behind her. For a reason that will be made clear later in the story.