![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I am informed by my byzantine and eccentric personal calendar that today marks ten years since I made my first fiction sale. I am having some kind of emotion about this!
...oh, I'm supposed to identify that emotion? Nope, sorry, no idea!
It was a bisexual threesome romance set in a traveling carnival in a largely unspecified fantasy world. I was too scared to write any explicit scenes. It has some vaguely cryptozoological ideas in it and a light con job of sorts. I think (because I have not reread it in ten years, so who can remember?) it ended with the timid third leaving his conventional life of expectations behind to run away, not so much on a whim as on a hope. There was some weird kink hinted at, and there was an attempt (however imperfect) at diversity in the characters.
So there's some continuity in my life, that's for sure.
My god, I was twenty-three once? How is that possible?
...oh, I'm supposed to identify that emotion? Nope, sorry, no idea!
It was a bisexual threesome romance set in a traveling carnival in a largely unspecified fantasy world. I was too scared to write any explicit scenes. It has some vaguely cryptozoological ideas in it and a light con job of sorts. I think (because I have not reread it in ten years, so who can remember?) it ended with the timid third leaving his conventional life of expectations behind to run away, not so much on a whim as on a hope. There was some weird kink hinted at, and there was an attempt (however imperfect) at diversity in the characters.
So there's some continuity in my life, that's for sure.
My god, I was twenty-three once? How is that possible?
