Friday, October 17, 2008

The adult years...

Post college I worked in accounting. The work can be tedious. What free time I had I used to study for exams. I attended graduate school, played golf, learned to fly, then bought a condo. Dated a little though I cannot recall memorable times other than the hockey incident.

As stated I had no ‘vanilla’ training, could not communicate well when in absolute awe of the female gender.

But my reading habits continued in absorbing an abundance of smut. I read a lot of pulp erotica. As I recall the BDSM letters in Penthouse were a favorite. In hindsight rather tame I suppose. But pre internet there was not much fresh and timely stuff available in the D/s genre.

Then with the advent of the word processor I begin to write. I always enjoyed writing but doing so by hand exaggerated the frustration of my inability to meet my own standards. Most efforts ended in the trash after clumsy editing created indecipherably encrypted hand written pages of drafts.

My hard drive filled with early efforts. Awkward. Choppy. Nothing still met my standards. But I persevered and continued smoothing. In 2001 I summoned the courage to submit my first manuscript to Pink Flamingo, ‘Lady Constance’.

Liz Dusseau and her husband had decided to start their own publishing firm. She formerly wrote books for Masquerade (not sure what happened to that publisher but I have many of their books). Well I cannot remember how I came across her site but there was an appeal for manuscripts, particularly Femdom. Liz had realized that, for whatever reason, Femdom erotica was becoming more in demand and she had little. (My opinion is that with the times, more and more women have been feeling empowered and their collective psyches want fiction where they are in control... no more being kidnaped, spanked and ravished).

So my first effort was accepted and published in early 2001. As noted in the compendium I now have many books published by Pink Flamingo... well over one million words. Mostly Femdom/male sub.

As noted in my bio, I have an unwritten warranty with my readers. Every book has a distinct plot and story line, well developed characters, no vulgar words (unless uttered by a character in dialogue), no annoying use of onomatopoeia.... e.g. ugggggggh......swwwiisssshhhh. The D/s action is strong... not for the uninitiated and the prospective reader is so forewarned. But unlike murder mysteries, no one gets killed, as I oft times remind aghast readers who comment.

The result is what I would term a hobby which brings in enough revenue to cover the cost of paper, ink and my IRA contribution. I write every morning for two or three hours.

As one may imagine, I have a hyperactive kinky mind. So when I introduce scenes like figging, for example, I plunge into the surf of the internet for thoughts and ideas. I visit a grocery store to purchase ginger. I cut and shape to experience the curious glow of the harmless juices which slowly turns to heat bordering on the unbearable.

I do research. For example a Femdom/fem sub forced lactation story mandated much reading on that subject matter. One book resulted in communicating with sexologists at McGill University in Canada on the topic of ‘ejaculatory incompetence’ (‘The Interrogator’). (They are well ahead of we puritans in the US concerning the psychology of sex and male/female attraction).

So there you have it, a socially inept accountant turned writer who pounds away every morning in secret. No one in my vanilla world knows I write and my sense of amusement is constantly piqued when I learn of friends who consider me rather prudish. They have no idea that I communicate daily with a rather diverse and kinky following, receiving emails concerning my books from around the world. I respond to every one.

Where this writing will lead I do not know. I have often thought about writing something mainstream but I cannot muster the enthusiasm without the inner brisance of having characters who engage in lurid acts and behavior.

Besides, the world of books is shrinking. Less people read and strangely the writing quality of that which sells is shockingly poor. It amazes me what makes the best seller lists. It may be hubris, but some of my stuff seems better written and constructed then that which sells in the tens of thousands and is on prominent display at the library.

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