Yesterday was my first experience with writing while on a airplane. It seemed like a great time to add to the in-progress second book; it was a long flight, and I was traveling alone. So, I whipped out the laptop and started typing away. The older woman next to me was asleep, so I wasn't overly concerned when I moved onto a more racy part. The scene was coming easily - as were the characters I was describing - and I was completely involved in what I was writing. So focused that I didn't notice my next-seat neighbor was awake and staring at my computer screen.
I could have ignored her. That seemed like the mature thing to do. After all, if she was bothered by what she was reading, she had only herself to blame. Unfortunately, once that I knew she was paying attention, I couldn't write. I decided to give her a moderately dirty look. Nothing too confrontational; after all, I had two more hours of sitting next to her. But she was invading my imaginary, personal airplane space. She did look away, but I never did get my creative mojo back.
I probably should be happy she didn't report me to the flight attendant. Or offer suggestions on how to make the scene hotter. How weird would it have been had she blithely remarked, "I'd rethink the use of the word "cock" dear. I've always preferred "one-eyed trouser snake myself".