I did. It worked. I churned out what my drunken self considered Shakespeare. The next morning, well, afternoon, my hung-over self recognized it as Muc... Ado about Nothing, Act III. No more booze. Mom saw what I was going through. Hell, she had seen it coming years ago. I had no talent. No gift. Just desire. Desire doesn’t pay the bills. Once, after another day of writing attempts, she called me into the living room to take a break from my blank pages. She was spread out on the couch in her green. Other a****ls alsodid sex openly, even our house cats, so us k**s knew about that partof sex. I didn't feel a sex drive as such yet, no desire to actuallydo the thing, but something warm was awakening inside me. I didexperience pleasure in touches on my body, especially between my legs. I had always noticed this feeling but it was stronger now and whenalone I'd rub myself gently, just to enjoy the feeling. What Larrysaid would happen, I didn't notice yet. No sign of shooting stuff,nor did it. More

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