I’ve mused about calling it “Wanderslut.”
You know, because: sex sells. That’s what they tell me. And at least in this personal blogosphere of mine, I can relate, because of all the many many posts I’ve written over the years, those having to do with sexuality in some way get the most views.
It’s not even close. No one, apparently, wants to know much about my political leanings, or my views on public transportation, or all the helpful posts I’ve written as a guide to my fiction, or much of anything else (well, occasionally).
So I thought the road trip diary, which was written after a road trip 20 years ago, would be of interest. As it’s a real slice of life, and as an aside, it contains real sex, which, of course, can be elaborated on. One of the guiding principles of that trip was that I’d meet people through the internet, because that whole idea was still very fresh then. And the nice thing is, sex never gets old, even if it’s 20-year-old fooling around. Right? ‘Cause you’re still hearing it for the very first time.
I’ll put it on amazon and sell it here, maybe, electronic version only. Maybe “Wanderslut: The Road Trip Diary” followed by “Wanderslut: The Train Pass Story” coming up, as I’m doing this trip again, though by train this time. No more driving.
What do you think? Would you be interested in reading such a thing?
Here’s a photo from that trip, though not a sexy one, more of a wistful one:
Me with my parents. I think it’s Mother’s Day, 1996. We were in Charlottesville, Virginia.