So, at some point I’m going to have to stop shrieking with glee every time I sell a story to a big market, right? I’m going to act like I’m not surprised, that this is a thing I do on a regular basis, because I’m a Real Writer Who Sells Things. Is this professional behavior? No? Well. But still.
Some little part of me is now worrying of course, what people will think of the story, which is titled Willing Flesh. The story brushes up against things like fat acceptance, GLBTQ and has a racial dimension. In other words, some people are going to tear me apart, as a white-straight-het-guy-of-a-certain age, why did I feel free to write this story?
In my defense, I wrote this story before I knew people would ever buy or publish it. Hah. So I have that excuse. Actually, my stories do take risks, and I know, I am going to end up getting beat up now and then, but, you know, I think that’s OK. My people, the White Men, trashed the planet and looted the country. I have it coming. Insert symbol for not being ironic here.
<Irony > The story is about a bunch of lady editors in chain mail bikinis who come from a galaxy where everyone is gay, and also Hitler.</Irony>
But I kid the 60 people who read my blog. Seriously. It isn’t about those things at all.