An admission of guilt, or at least, of writing

Well, today I more or less announced myself as a writer in Facebook.

which won’t be big news for the people who used to  read this space, or for the very few who have read my fiction, but in the modern, post blogosphereera world of social networks, I don’t think many of the people I interact with know me as such, despite this site having been linked from FB and Instagram for years.

but after completing a marathon revision session on my novella Wanton, I both needed acknowledge my own progress, fighting back from years of feeling unable, as well as, I’ll admit it, hoping somebody would go read it. I don’t work in a vacuum well; I’ve always needed an audience to write for, or at least hoped my work would find one. So while I did t link direst to this site or to the novella in question (yet), I am hoping I get a hit or two and somebody says, I’d like to read that.

One thing that’s changed since I wrote this is the need to trigger warning it; I never before felt I needed to label my work, despite it being largely erotic, because I consider Wanton, at least, to be fiction, a love story, rather than a wank-piece. It may get you aroused, and I hope it does, but the intent is to tell a story about two characters in an obsessive, destructive relationship. It’s about the people, not about what they may do.

but, the story is filled with blood, pain, come, drugs and both physical and emotional harm. The last  two people I shared it with pre-edit, I didn’t warn, and I think it gut-punched them in different ways.

going forward, then, it has warnings.

 

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