The way perfectionism inhibits me from starting something new. The times I silenced myself instead of speaking up. The need to have my story all together before I find the courage to be heard. The fact that I wasn’t always this way.

But also, the intimacy of a voice in my ear with words only I can hear. The …

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Well, that hiatus was unplanned. So was my third bout of Covid, but let’s not talk about that. It’s so 2021.

I’m back with some new writing!

Recently, The Pleasure Society asked me to write about sexuality and age for Cheex, along with four other writers in their 50s, 60s, and 70s. I’m a huge fan of The Pleasure Society (their Pleasure Cards are so much fun for lovers), and I love Cheex’s approach to erotic films, audio stories, and sex education.

It’s hard to write an article about sex in your 40s without using the words ‘confidence’, ‘comfortable in my own skin,’ ‘owning it,’ or ‘fabulous at 40’). But I did my best.

Read my full column over on the Cheex website, or simply listen to it here.

Here’s a question for you:

What is the absolute best thing about sex at age __ (insert your age here)?

I’m looking forward to reading your answers. As a thank you, here’s 14 days of FREE access to Cheex!

Leave a comment

My pleasure. (And hopefully, yours too.)

You’re invited to my live reading!

And now for some exciting news. This month I’m participating in Come Alive, an exhibition about eroticism and the power of pleasure at the Muntgebouw in Utrecht.

The grand opening on Friday, June 3rd features awesome art, workshops, performances, and a party. I’m guesting on the panel discussion: Everything You Always Wanted to Know But Were Too Afraid To Ask About Sex.

It blows my mind that less than a year ago, I couldn’t write a sex scene to save my life. Now here I am on a sex panel. How’s that for character development?

On June 25th, Saturday, I’ll be reading excerpts from my book!

I’ve found intimate live readings fun, exciting, and incredibly insightful. Seeing where people laugh, lose interest, get turned on (yes, I can see you touching yourself) tells me what works and what doesn’t, where to sharpen and expand, what to cut and what to keep—all valuable information that goes into shaping my second draft.

The energy and reactions of a live audience are a huge boost of encouragement to keep slogging through this solitary, uncertain, and thankless process of writing and re-writing. So I invite you to an exchange: I give you stories, you give me strength.

I’m also taking questions after the reading, so…

What are you dying to know about my book?

The reading is free, but I highly recommend getting a ticket for the exhibition. See the art, stay for the words.

Get your tickets for June 25th here. Please come! I would love to see you.

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Biggest thanks to Conor, my co-conspirator and sound expert; Morgan from Come Alive; and Shari of The Pleasure Society.

He was called Gandhi by his family in India, Paul by his colleagues and friends, but to us he will always be Daddy.

Listen to it here.

Here in Amsterdam summer is in full swing. I’m surprised by how much a decade in Europe has changed me: I’m wilting and find myself unable to write at 28 degrees, even if I grew up in a climate that was hotter and much more humid.

Sizzling bike saddles, balcony dinners, chilled and slightly fizzy red wines, and refreshing canal dips (as often as I can manage) mark my days. And always, the scent of roses as I bike around town. I hope you are enjoying yours, and that the coming summer (for this is only a prelude) brings growth, expansion and joy.

Thank you for listening (or reading)!

Did you listen or read, or both? I’m trying to figure out if I should do more of these audio episodes, and would love to know if you enjoy them.

Do you have a special article of clothing or jewelry that holds memories of someone dear to you? I would love to hear about it.

Special thanks to Conor Vella, still life photographer and plastic artist by day, sound engineer and co-conspirator by night, who stayed up late to record this on the hottest day of the year.

Letters by Deepa is a bi-weekly newsletter by Deepa Paul. Click here to subscribe.

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Gold was first published in the Winter 2021 issue of the Sky Island Journal.

Read the full essay (and more works of poetry, flash fiction and creative nonfiction) on the Sky Island Journal website. Or listen to me read it here.

When I wrote Gold…

… for Creative Nonfiction’s Flash Essay class, I loved experimenting with how to use the very, very short form (less than 1,000 words) to zero in on a moment in time with laser focus, then expand it both detail and meaning.

Pondering the ending, my teacher Jenna remarked, “The final sentence feels so sad and deflated.” Was that the feeling I wanted to leave readers with? Ending on either an “up” or “down” note were both emotionally valid, but it was entirely up to me.

I suppose a definitive happy ending is preferable—except the story doesn’t end when I’m sixteen. Far from it.

My relationship with my body is an ongoing story. It has unfolded through the insecurities of early adulthood and the tumult of pregnancy and childbirth, facing the reality of age, and coming to grips with the corona kilos of the past year. It is a story that changes as I do, with a shape that I have come to love.

Everything I have discovered about my body is what I now truly consider gold.

After I wrote Gold…

I wondered: whatever happened to my first love? After some Facebook sleuthing, I am happy to report that he is alive and well, married, the father of twins, a boy and a girl.

I wondered: did Mom ever realize what that moment meant? Likely not, and I don’t resent her for it. My mother is a product of her time and of the conversations that shaped her, as we all are. She never spoke to me unkindly or harshly; in fact, it is her kindness that gave her words such weight. She is the most generous and soft-hearted person I know, full of childlike trust in the innate goodness of people, which can be both remarkable and frustrating at times.

I realize that as a mother, I too am bound to say or do something that will affect my daughter in a way that I never intended. It’s a sobering thought. But my mother was just doing her best with what she had, and so will I.

Recording Gold

I had been toying with a podcast for a while. Two things stopped me: I never really got into podcasts myself (I can hear your gasps of horror) and this little thing called a global pandemic.

But I thought: wouldn’t it be nice if people had the option to listen to my writing, instead of reading it? I’m not organized enough to pull together a full-blown podcast, but surely I can slip an audio file into a newsletter—just like I used to enclose stickers, stationery and hair clips in the letters I mailed to my pen pals when I was a kid.

Very special thanks to Conor Vella, still life photographer and plastic artist by day, audio engineer and co-conspirator by night, without whom I never would have recorded this. (He’s already on me to do the next one.)

Thank you for listening (or reading)

Did you listen or read, or both? I would love to hear what you think.

Hit reply or write me at storiesbydeepa@gmail.com. Or if you like, write back with your answer to this question: 

Have you ever felt the way I did in Gold? What was that moment, and why did you feel that way?

Oh, and it’s Valentine’s Day. Spread the love around, but save some for yourself too.

See you in two weeks!

Gold image by Matt Seymour on Unsplash.

Letters by Deepa is a newsletter by Deepa Paul. Click here to subscribe.

Subscribe now