Okay. So I thought I would take a break from over-analyzing modern society as depicted in spec fic, writing a pointless spec fic that tries to make some very deep points but gets nowhere, and you know, reading theory like I occassionally do (which I can never stop spelling with two "s"es, no matter how hard I try). So I started writing this novel with the intention of letting it just be a nice, simple, uncomplicated story. Basically: I just wanted to write trash. You know, a man and a woman, a problem easily solved, a love to rivel death/old age/eternity, etc., with the potential for some sexy scenes. But suddenly, my writing evolved to showing an alternative version of white American masculinity in-a-position-of-power (ex: it's a Problem Moment when the guy suddenly is chivalric and carries the chick's bag, becomes protective, etc.) and to attempt to portray the Victim as more than just a victim, where her past becomes trivial rather than a way to engender sympathy, and eventually, Romantic Feelings from the hero (which, if you read a lot of trash, is a common plot: the heroine, dirtied by her past, purified by the love of this alpha male). Anyway, the point I'm making: I JUST WANTED TO WRITE TRASH!!!! Why is everything suddenly so complicated? Why do I ALWAYS do this? There's like this switch in my head: if I start thinking, it just accelerates and gets more and more "meaningful." I can't stop at a reasonable point. How the HELL am I going to ever make money if I can't sell my soul short and write what the reader wants, not what I want? *deep, mournful sigh*