Write Like A Woman

August 12, 2008

Today’s guest post is brought to you by Black Hockey Jesus. No relation to that other guy named Jesus. I think. Maybe be nice to him in the comments, just in case.


I get a lot of email that says stuff like “You’re an arrogant jerk. Who do you think you are?”.

I also get a lot of email that says stuff like “You’re insane. How do you think up all the crazy shit you write about?” or “You’re stoned. How do you think up all the crazy shit you write about?”. Well guess what? I’m not insane or stoned. I just write like a woman.

I said I’m not insane. Or stoned.

You probably think I’ve written myself into a corner, that there’s no way out of this mess without saying something stupid and pissing off every woman on the internet. You’re probably right. And why the hell did I pick my guest post for Her Badness Catherine Connors to start making brash generalizations about the way women write? I don’t know.

I swear these ideas they just come to me.

Seriously. They do. And when I say I write like a woman, I’m signifying the archetypal sexual experience of the woman. What? I’m talking about the fundamental fact of the way the vagina receives the penis. She is the vessel. She is that soulful place that receives the man. Now I want to use this purely biological model of sex as a means to explore the way I write (Read: Let’s bypass the part where you attack me because I’m trying to perpetuate the oppression of women via passive representations of those wondrously curvy beings. It’s a blog. Not a scholarly journal. A little slack?).

A lot of books and blogs are by people who think too much. All cock & no pussy. They just tell us straight out what they think like a guy skipping foreplay. Then they actually tell us what we’re supposed to think like a drunken stepdad. Hey. Back off the prose, macho man. You can’t just rushity rush right into it. You gotta chill out. Slow down. Spread your legs. And let it come.

Your job isn’t to think up a bunch of cool things with your brilliant mind that you write down to make people laugh and/or think. Residues of the Patriarchy, tough guy. No. Your job is to stare at the moon, let yourself empty out and drop away—prepare the ground for what will come.

And then let it come.

Your best ideas are your craziest ideas that the Man in you thinks are dumb or stupid. He tries to throw them out and write things that are clear and reasonable. Fuck that guy. Write like a woman! Let’s do it now. I’m going sit here at my desk until something comes along that I don’t consciously think of…

Waiting…

Waiting…

Look. It’s a little girl in a green dress with a bunch of droopy yellow flowers.

BLACK HOCKEY JESUS: What do you want little girl?

LITTLE GIRL IN A GREEN DRESS WITH A BUNCH OF DROOPY YELLOW FLOWERS: I want my Mommy.

BHJ: Well where is your Mommy little girl?

LGIAGDWABODF: She is saying a prayer to the dark through a mist of dust and regret.

BHJ: Well you’re a trippy little girl aren’t you? You remind me of Arthur Rimbaud. Run along now.

You see? I had nothing to do with creating that little girl. I didn’t invent her or make her up or think of her. I was merely the passive receiver wherein she arose and said some trippy shit. She was kinda spooky too. I didn’t choose her dress color or the flowers. They just appeared to me. You see how easy it is? You were just trying too hard. It has nothing to do with you. You are surrounded, right now, by more things than you could ever dream of writing. Let them in. Write like a woman. And if you’re a guy, other guys will probably call you a pussy. Because you are! You are a pussy. But this is the 21st Century. It’s OK to be a pussy.

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    { 32 comments }

    scott August 12, 2008 at 10:38 am

    See, I go back and forth on this thing. (It’s a swing, after all.)

    Sometimes I think women are emotional and poetic and free and men are rigid (hee hee) and rational and practical. Then, other times, I think it’s just the opposite. Women are concrete and real and pragmatic and men are silly and romantic and unbound.

    Maybe, when it comes right down to it, it’s just not a woman/man thing. Maybe it’s not even an individual things. Maybe it’s just a flow or an energy thing. Sometimes you is and sometimes you ain’t.

    In my brief experience with you, it seems that you typically is, but how can I know? I’ve never even met you.

    Hello, Black Hockey Jesus (and Her Bad Mother.)

    TZT August 12, 2008 at 10:40 am

    I find myself completely overcome with the desire to write like a woman.

    jothemama August 12, 2008 at 10:53 am

    This is way easier to understand than the feminist criticism I did in college that said the same thing (I think).

    Heh, Scott, that’s some loaded language you got going on there. Women win!

    I posted about men blogging today, but I didn’t get into style so much.

    'That Girl' August 12, 2008 at 10:55 am

    Okay, so was the circle of life bit just one huge yonic symbol?

    Miss Britt August 12, 2008 at 10:56 am

    HBM is going to have to change her tag line to “all pussy, all the time”.

    Jennifer August 12, 2008 at 11:11 am

    I don’t think you write like a man or a woman–I think you’re just a good writer!

    mothergoosemouse August 12, 2008 at 11:31 am

    I just realized that I’m a drunk stepdad who doesn’t bother with foreplay.

    Whit August 12, 2008 at 11:40 am

    Rimbaud! Nice, you arrogant, stoned pussy.

    Sprite's Keeper August 12, 2008 at 11:46 am

    After reading this, I feel like I won’t be needing my usual caffeine pick me up today.

    Rhea August 12, 2008 at 11:58 am

    I think I get what you’re saying. Maybe. Kind of.

    Like, don’t spoon feed what you want to say, just kind of hold the spoon out there with mysterious shit on it and wait to see what people think and say.

    Because you want people to interpret things on their own…

    Kind of like Sopranos?

    New Age Bitch August 12, 2008 at 12:32 pm

    While on the one hand I loathe sweeping generalizations, on the other hand you’re completely spot on.

    Let’s all join hands, close our eyes, sway a little and chant, “I am the vessel; I am the orifice; I am the pussy,” shall we?

    Raging Dad August 12, 2008 at 12:35 pm

    Well put, BHJ. I think your words are true, especially given that you (and I, and all daddy bloggers for that matter) are writing in a genre that is dominated by females. We men have to be more than our usual dumb selves to trick them into reading! Heh. Nice post.

    Baby in the City August 12, 2008 at 1:52 pm

    Na-uh. Not OK to be a pussy, even when you have one.
    Skip the foreplay anytime, got my own imagination thanks, what I need is your penis.

    Irene August 12, 2008 at 2:05 pm

    You’re a riot. Sometimes I feel like writing just so, but something proper in me prevents me from doing it. I’ve been made to civilized, is suppose. I will give it a try and see how far it takes me. You’re pretty daring.

    ChurchPunkMom August 12, 2008 at 2:09 pm

    True dat, Black Hockey Jesus. Word.

    Oh.. and I feel no need to be nice ‘just in case’.. I know the REAL Jesus, and you ain’t him! ;-p

    Sass E-mum August 12, 2008 at 3:05 pm

    IDLI.

    Not cutting you any slack from over here.

    Sleep Deprivation Ninja August 12, 2008 at 3:33 pm

    Wise words BHJ. I will meditate on this and, after consumed with fire and dust, arise again as a new being. What’s that, “Shut up and write?” Oh, yeah…ok…

    leaves are falling into my living room. It must be the tree outside, having slammed a whole in the roof. What a crazy sight.

    only a movie August 12, 2008 at 3:44 pm

    great job, you passive receiver, you.

    Hello, Her Bad Mother.

    Steph August 12, 2008 at 4:38 pm

    So you’re like a legitimate blogger? (There’s an interesting term, legitimate blogger, hmm.) The first time I clicked over to your site from a comment on Sweet|Salty, your blog title freaked me the fuck out and I was sure it was some kind of nasty prank. This is a pleasant surprise.

    Schmutzie August 12, 2008 at 4:53 pm

    I can’t decided if I like you or hate you. I must be in love.

    mysecondjournal August 12, 2008 at 5:14 pm

    Shit..I suck because i write like I have a penis…shit

    Velma August 12, 2008 at 5:16 pm

    ooooooooooohhhhh!

    Schmutzie and BHJ, sitting in a tree…

    (‘Cause, yeah, I’m mature like that.)

    Minnesota Matron August 12, 2008 at 7:25 pm

    Helene Cixous R Us. And if the Matron wasn’t so busy, all vessel-like, she’d learn how in the hell to put in those accents on Helene. But technology sort of looks like penis, doesn’t it? Just a man thing and I’m here, sitting back, observing.

    whensheworeponytails August 12, 2008 at 10:27 pm

    After reading that I kind of can’t decide if I want to think about this seriously or just go have some sex. I’m not really sure what that says about me or my writing style.

    Anissa Mayhew August 13, 2008 at 12:01 am

    Sorry, you lost me, I had to run off and Google “WTF is foreplay?”

    Seriously, your hidden genius is peeking out from under your skirt, man.

    Vicki August 13, 2008 at 9:30 am

    Ok. You’re not stoned and you’re not crazy…you’re on acid. Thus the trippy girl with the flowers.

    And you know that pussy not only receives but gives life too. You forgot to mention that. Of course, it doesn’t give life without first receiving something, does it? Ahhh, the circle of life…

    Amanda August 13, 2008 at 10:51 am

    Dude, must not make me over think it.

    In the end, they’re just words, right? Let’s put some together.

    lavandula August 13, 2008 at 11:08 am

    well damn i had some witty ditty composed in my um head but read others comments first and like forgot? something about eels liking to hide in caverns….

    greezus chrust August 13, 2008 at 11:25 am

    man, now my pu- i mean my vagaina hurts. thanks.

    merlotmom August 14, 2008 at 1:35 am

    You had me at “vagina is the vessel for the penis”. I don’t know whether to smack you or go find my vibrator.

    ben August 14, 2008 at 5:16 pm

    I was going to say something (I think it rhymed with “vessel”) but now the room is sorta spinning.

    Marcia Brady September 16, 2008 at 12:46 am

    Oog. I dunno. Sounded pretty manly to me. See: Derrida.

    My vagi-gi just isn’t my best writing instrument. For that I use my brain.

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