What’s the line? There’d be nothing worse than to die ‘with your music inside you.’

I believe each of us has something important to say. And, I know that many of you are still yearning to write THE BOOK. You know the one. The one that’s going to catapult you and your business to fame!

But, if you’re like me you’ve picked at it; written a bit; and then lost focus or enthusiasm.

BUT, there’s a way out!

My friend, colleague, and Blogging Mentor Andy Wibbels is once again offering his hands-on, hold-your-feet-to-the-fire, get the damn book written in 45 days!

YES, it’s time for Andy’s Write a Book in 45 Days!

Impossible you say? Not true.

Dr. Susan Reid, who attended Andy’s seminar last spring, cranked out a draft of her book “Discovering Your Inner Samurai”, which was published last year, received National Finalist Best Book awards, and lead to her becoming a regular columnist at the American Express Forum

I’m joining Andy so he and the other participants can keep my feet to the fire and help me write a sloppy first draft of my memoir Beyond the Pain: My Journey from Trauma to Recovery.

WOW! It was way back in 2004 that the Governator coined the term, "Girly Man" as a put down of those opposed to his economic slash and burn approach.

I'll not explore the psychology here involved ... as in the Governator's really in the closet, etc.

But, let's look at who resents us so-called "Girly Men".

It's Dicks with Sticks, Dicks with Cars, Dicks who think they have big dicks but really have no IQ, no EQ, and have 'small balls' (to quote a line from "The House of D") .

OK .. I lied. I will look at the psychology of it.

As Freud might say, "Vat ve haf here is a clear case of projection." His pal, Carl Jung, would add that it was a projection of "The Shadow." No my dears not The Shadow of 40s Radio but that part of our psyche which we deny and disown.

If you've ever browsed the newstand, as I often do, you will see countless Dick Magazines: Maxim, Tatoo, Hustler, Playboy (which I read for the articles ;-).

What these magazines have in common are scantily clad young women; in very strange poses that emphasize their tits and asses; hot cars; big cigars; and boys toys galore.

Nothing wrong with cars or young women.

It's the objectification of them that IS a problem.

Ya see the Boyz from the Hood objectify womyns cause them females scare the shit out of them!

So, they hypersexualize them: they make them fuck objects and use the magazines as stroke books. Not that there's anything per se wrong with masturbation. It's the attitude these boyz have toward women that sucks.

I know because I was one of these boys -- when I was freaking 15!

I treated girls like sex objects -- the surge of Testosterone drove me nearly mad. And, until I discovered the joys of self loving, I tried to seduce every girl I dated. It wasn't about what they wanted. It was about what I needed .. a good fuck!

Eventually, I outgrew that phase -- well, except for those moments in the morning when my erection kicks in and my limbic system goes on high alert. ;-)

The point is that as a young, horny male I lusted after girls YET at the same time thought I was gay.

Why?

Because, I did not fit with society's image or my father's image of what it meant to be a man! I still remember the day my dad told me, "You need to go in the army. They'll make a man of YOU!" RIGHT! Like the man he became -- NOT!

It took me a lot of years to realize that my "Girly" nature had much to do with the fact that I was a Feeling Type male (think Psychological Type). To warp John Gray's book title, I was a Man from Venus not Mars. Which reminds me of a joke: If Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, where do lawyers come from?" Answer... ta da, drum roll .. "Uranus!"

My Feeling dominant step-mother keyed into the fact that I liked to do 'girly' things like baking, sewing, and needle point. She taught my twin sister and I to cook, clean, bake, sew, do the laundry, etc. I seemed to have a natural talent for it whereas my poor sister can't even make Jello.

So, eventually I came to understand that I get along better with women. In fact, 95% of my Facebook Friends are female. And, many of my male BFFs are gay.

I happen to like my Feminine half. It is my Eternal Fem that inspires my writing, my poetry, my painting, and my creativity.

So, AHnold ... fuck you and your labels.

Over the last 2 months it had become clear to me that I am not able to do all that I would love to do -- including blogging here.

Part of me hates prioritizing ... hates giving up the dream of being able to do everything. But, the reality is that nary a word has been posted here for more than 2 months.

And, I have other priorities ... other things that are garnering my attention. These include blogging at New Coach Connection. True, it's only 3x a month but the posts take a lot of research and careful composition.

Plus, I want to work on my Memoir, Beyond The Pain ... and I want to restart blogging about it. You'll find the blog here at Beyond The Pain.

And, I'm working on growing my coaching practice. You'll find my website/blog at The Unsticking Coach.

So, right now I don't know when ... or if I'll come back here.

Thanks for visiting over the last 3 years. And, thanks especially for your comments.

Good luck. God Bless.

Thanks to Gail over at AuthorSmart for introducing me to Imagini.

This is my profile...

DISCLAIMER: The following excerpt deals graphically with a scene that is the lead in to seduction and rape of a young boy.

COPYRIGHT 2007 Lyle T. Lachmuth, ALL Rights Reserved

[Beginning of Excerpt]

The priest smothered the boy's cries for help.

The priest held the boy firmly against his body. His arms wrapped around the boy. The boy couldn’t move, feared to breath, yet somehow, cried out. The priest’s lips pressed against the back of his [] neck, nibbling like a marauding eel, breath reeking of gin like the boy’s mother.

Father [] cooed, “Edward be a good boy now. You know how much you like me to touch you. Don’t struggle now. I love you Eddie. You know you love me. There, there, be a good boy. I’m going to slip off your shirt now. I need to kiss your [], soft shoulders. You are such a dear, sweet boy.”

Father [] holding Edward carefully, firmly in place with his left arm, slowly undid the buttons on the boy’s shirt. All the while kissing his way round the boy’s neck, moving from one side to the other, slowly like a great, [] earthworm inching its way along.

“You are such a treasure Eddie. The best of all the boys in the choir. The best of all the boys who have been with me. Such a love. Turn now Eddie and kiss me, full on the lips, like I’ve taught you.”

The priest gently, softly, turned the boy in his arms, still holding tight, so the boy could not, dare not flee. Father [] tilted back the boy’s golden haired head, leaned forward, and softly covered the boy’s [] mouth with a [] kiss.

“It’s time Eddie. Time to take of your trousers. Time for . . .”

[End of Excerpt]

DISCLAIMER: If you are easily offended by naughty words, sex, and .... well whatever. Then STOP READING.   
This blog post © Lyle T. Lachmuth ALL Rights Reserved

[Begin Excerpt]

Morning Pages Sunday, November 2, 2008 5:01 a.m.

I’m hornier than fucking hell. 

But, really tired too. My head aches. The damn barometric pressure is bouncing around. 

Warping… Frig I need to reserve the URL for my book, just in case. 

Frig. [] was taken! So was []! So I had to reserve []. Oh, well. 

Man if Julia Camerson saw my Morning Pages she’d shit! Hey! I should write a blog post about that, “Julia Cameron Hates Me!” That’s nice and provocative and might garner some traffic to my site. 

Got lost AGAIN! When I went to blog I suddenly remembered I wanted to check out the blog mentioned in J. A. Jance’s last Ali Reynolds mystery. As I suspected the URL really leads to Jance’s own publicity site. Interesting that the blog portion of the site hasn’t any entries. Q,uelle suprize! Who the fuck has time for blogging when you are writing one or two god damn novels a year. 

Jeff Buick’s site is like that. Three lousy blog entries! Oh pissy little me. Jeff’s written and PUBLISHED four mysteries. FOUR more than me!! 

Fuck! Back on track. That is if there IS a track to Morning Pages. 

I’m hungry. I think I’ll go get some breakfast and then come back here.   

[end excerpt] 

This blog post © Lyle T. Lachmuth ALL Rights Reserved

DISCLAIMER: If you are easily offended by naughty words, sex, and .... well whatever. Then STOP READING.

This blog post © Lyle T. Lachmuth ALL Rights Reserved

= = =

I’m continually amazed at how fantastic I am at avoiding writing.

Today I planned to start writing as soon as I sat down at the computer. It’s an hour later and I’ve written squat. FUCK!

Instead it’s e-mails, brewing tea, getting organized for NaNo, and browsing my favourite porn site . . .

Ok boys and girls just rememer: My Writing might be shit but it's MY SHIT!

If I catch anyone scarfing my writing you will PAY!

= = Here it is R Rated!! = =

Rich stared at the screaming pink vibrator in his hand.

Huge was not quite the right word for it. Massive, perhaps. Definitely, humungous.
He wondered why the fuck anyone would own, yet alone use something so grossly huge.

What was worse was the fact that it belonged to the dead girl. Miranda, he thought, that was her name. He knew her as []. . .

Yesterday marked the start of that annual exercise in writerly self-abuse called NaNoWriMo.

Since I'm not nearly ADD enough I signed up. Ha! Ha!

The goal? Write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. ONLY 1,667 words a day.

Pizza cake! Right?

NOT!

Here I sits blogging not writing .... well, not writing my novel. I only gots 49,700 words to go. Easy peasy!

A teaser will come in the next post.