Exit Closet, Stage Left

[samanthak]

OK, I confess. I'm a lurker. I couldn't draw in kindergarten and my skills haven't improved any since then. I'm working on learning Photoshop (Corel Draw, actually) but the only thing I've mastered so far is the conviction that that's going to take time. What I am is a writer. I think I can assert that without fear of rebuke, since I've produced an award-winning (well, third-place anyway) novel longer than War and Peace and posted it to Usenet and StoriesOnLine. Did I mention that it's porn? No, really. Check it out: http://storiesonline.net/auth/Samantha_K

Why am I here, since I clearly have nothing to contribute? Simple, I need ideas. It's not easy when you're starting the fifth sequel to something. Most of the good ideas have already been done to death. I mean, "Oh, Rory! Oh, Rory! Oh, Rory!" followed by "Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Fuck me deep!" just can't be sustained for a couple of hundred pages, no matter how purple the prose in between or how purple Rory's thingie gets.

A friend pointed out that one of the ideas that I've used a few times - a girl's clit growing large enough to use as a cock - and which I thought was original (no such thing, I know) was, in fact, an entire genre unto itself. The site he referenced as supporting evidence of his claim was this one. So here I am, finding out that something I thought was 'not ready for prime time', is rather thoroughly fleshed-out (stop giggling). So what we have here is another example of Rule 34. <sigh>

Also what we have here is one damn huge lot of very creatively visualized work that mirrors something that has been going on inside my head. I'm stunned at the volume and the breadth of work that has been done. I hope I will be able to transfer some of the spirit of the art here to the written word, even though it seems a daunting task.

So with my usual excess of verbosity (hey, you don't get to 1200 pages by being terse), I hereby fling open the closet door to say, "Hi, there!"