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A London Guide to Sex Workers
An Eighteenth Century Lonely Planet to Ladies of the Night
Going down the rabbit hole of research becomes something in itself. I drink from the enchanted well of amnesia and forget about the book I am writing. The research forgets its own purpose. It learns to exist without being humbled by the greater good. Breaking its shackles so it no longer serves the master, the work of fiction still struggling into being.
It is a while before I can grasp back the chains, re-secure the locks, and restrain the research back into its rightful purpose. Yet I do not regret the moments when it was allowed to run free, without thought of obligation. There is always something wonderful in it. And something that is learned or restored that would otherwise remain hidden.
A gem that was unearthed last week during such a moment was an eighteen century guide to London’s sex workers. A sort of bygone Lonely Planet guide to whoremongering.
Just two days before this I’d hit my stride with a new chapter. Alas, my optimism was short lived. Two thousand words in and I hit the buffers with a sickening sound heard throughout the borders of my ego. Pretty damn nasty. Fortunately I ‘d tucked away the first section of the chapter but the next part was sadly a write-off. So I retreated back to research and my…
