Tag Archives: service
As some of you may be aware, there has been a bit of a brouhaha in the ebook world. Kobo, an ebook distributor, recently pulled all self-published work in hopes of purging works they deem unsavory. Amazon, as well as Barnes & Noble and practically all other ebook distributors, has done the same thing. Another distributor, WHSmith, took their entire site offline.
About five of my books have been taken off the market by Amazon and I’m not sure they will return. They all skirt the edge of what Amazon and the others are trying to remove, edgy erotica with incest/roleplay and age play themes.
A little bit of my thinking on this. People like to read about all sorts of fantastic things, from violence, to the surreal, to the abstract, to explicitly sexual things that tap into strong emotions, including things that are very very wrong. The beauty of storytelling is that what you create isn’t real and often can’t or shouldn’t be real. We write about these dark fantasies to play out normal desires to their abnormal extremes. “Corruption of innocence” becomes younger/older. “Forbidden” becomes inappropriate or even illegal relationships. “Danger” becomes actual violence.
These symbols and metaphors are similar to the way people roleplay things that they wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t do in reality. Just like we read about criminals, murderers, ghosts, monsters, and aliens to tap into what all those things represent to us.
Here are some resources about what’s going on with self-publish erotica ebooks:
What started this whole debacle: BBC, WH Smith takes website offline after porn e-book scandal
Gawker has the douche-y and biased story title “Mass of Sick Self-Published Porn Pulled From Amazon, WHSmith and Kobo Book Stores” (Fuck you Gawker)
The dry cleaner (a lovely woman from Belarus, I believe) had my order hanging near the cash register, waiting for me. She tried to brush away my tip, but as always she eventually conceded with a smile and daintily shoved the few extra dollars (as daintily as someone can shove something) into her vast brassiere.
Usually by 8:30, which my pocketwatch told me it had just struck, I’d be making coffee, but since my employer was “with guest” and the various grinding of beans and screaming of espresso making apparati would, I’m sure, be a less than ideal wake up call, I was out running the errands which I usually saved for later in the day.
The mornings when my employer had an overnight guest (or guests, as sometimes happens) were some of the most challenging in my professional life, I assure you. Still, in their own way, they were some of the most rewarding.