Writing Filth For Fun And Profit

So I get an e-mail tonight from a guy at this website saying that they want to publish one of my stories. Online, I mean, but they actually put out print anthologies every year.

Unexpected, I have to say. I'm not exactly in the business of writing erotic fiction.

But I do, now and again, mostly to amuse myself and a small but select group of friends. What happened on this particular occasion was that the story, Fitz And Me, had quite an impact on my little readership. So much so that I was urged to try and get it published.

Which I did, by sending it to The Erotic Review, a fairly high quality magazine published here in the UK. About two months later, they wrote back to let me know that, although my submission was appreciated, they hadn't read it and didn't have time to read it. People to see and places to go, don't you know?

I have no problem with rejection. If you've ever attempted to write for publication, then you'll know that your early years are going to be spent staring at a fat pile of rejection slips and letters. What pissed me off about this one was its tone. That and the fact that they'd rejected me for no apparent reason. They hadn't even looked at the piece.

So I touted it around a little, more out of pique than anything else, and ended up submitting it to the site linked above. They got back to me first to say that it had passed the first stage of their screening procedure, and then to let me know that they wanted it. Yes, I have in my hotmail inbox that rare beast, a letter that says I'm talented and that someone actually wants to do something with my work.

I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Especially seeing as I am now, officially, a porn peddler.