Intelligence Is Imagination With An Erection
I didn't always want to be a writer. Sure, I was one of those kids: the ones who are too bright, too creative, too curious – and, yes, in case you're interested, I was bullied ... a lot – but actually doing anything with that brightness, creativity, curiosity didn't pop into mind until high school.
But, boy, did it POP. In retrospect it's more than a bit ... odd (to be polite) how enthusiastic and disciplined I became about writing. In hindsight a lot of it probably had to do with trying to find an escape from a less-than-perfect family dynamic – but another big motivator was that I'd always been the kid who didn't just talk about doing things: I did them. Perfect example: I remember, in early elementary school, discovering that the science classroom had a darkroom ... so I went home and over the weekend read every book I could on photography so when I came back on Monday I developed my first roll of film and did my first few test prints.
Alas, discipline and enthusiasm are fine and good – actually they are absolutely essential in a writer – but my discipline and enthusiasm was focused on Mount Everest: selling a story to the likes of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Early rejections didn't stop me – in fact nothing stopped me – and I kept trying, kept writing, kept submitting: my goal was a short story a week and/or three pages of writing or three pages of just story ideas.
And, you know, it worked -- sort of. I've never sold a story to Fantasy & Science Fiction but all that work, all that passion, paid off ... abet in a very unusual and totally unexpected way.
Eventually I made my way to the Bay Area, got married, and – on a total whim – took a class from Lisa Palac who, at the time, was editing a magazine called FutureSex. When I discovered ... well, sex, my stories got a little more (ahem) mature. It was one of those stories I was brave enough to hand to Lisa.
What happened next is, to resort to cliché – and hyperbole – is the stuff of legends: Lisa not just liked the story but bought it. A year later Susie Bright also liked the story and bought it for Best American Erotica 1994.
Sure, it took me ten years of trying (and, yes, you may whistle at that) but that wasn't important. People often ask me why I write what I write -- lesbian erotica, gay erotica, bisexual erotica, kink after fetish after stroke after stroke – and the answer couldn't be simpler.
I am a writer ... and for someone who lives to tell stories, who worked so hard to hang onto that brightness, creativity, curiosity, discipline, and enthusiasm, finding a way to do what I love to do and be recognized for it, in demand for it, and even paid for it there is simply nothing better.
My name is Chris, my main pseudonym is M.Christian, and I am a pornographer ... and I couldn't be happier.
(by the way, the quote that starts this is by Victor Hugo ... and is a kind of personal philosophy)