The Writer in Me
Call me what you will, but calling me a pornographer has no power as an insult. My skin's grown too thick after several years of seeing my short stories achieve publication and, besides, one has to enjoy being a pariah artist on at least a modest level to write against convention.
These days, my focus centers on shepherding longer works of fiction into print. I still write plenty of short fiction (see In Print and Upcoming) but am stoked that, after years of lackluster attention, the publishing world has developed a keen and hungry eye for erotic novels. Here's hoping!
A passionate bibliophile, I collect older editions of S/M erotica, general gallantia, and good ol' dirty books -- as much as my starving artist budget allows, that is. You can find some of that passion reflected in various content sections at my weblog, Pursed Lips. Someday, I hope to write about my relationship to these works, tentatively entitled, Prurient Words: An Intimate Appreciation of S/M Erotica. Slide show yet to be prepared.
Outside of my writer self, I'm a polyamorist, pervert, and erotic adventurer, a wife and mother, a daughter and sister, a friend to others, queer supporter, and owner of several dear pets. I admire the golden rule, especially when its practice keeps people in good loops of karmic joy.