Review!

I don't solicit reviews. I don't beg for them, I don't pay for them. I don't ask friends for them, I don't spam blogs or Facebook. I barely mention my writing on my tumblr.
I suppose I could. Maybe I should. It's certainly not an uncommon practice. At this point, you'd almost be an idiot not to. Think about it: If there are two books you're interested in, both priced the same, but one of them has a 5-star review and the other doesn't, which one are you going to buy?

Exactly. That's why Amazon's KDP program is so important. It allows authors to give our books away for free. It introduces readers to our work for free- all they have to do is tap their screen and it's theirs.

The theory is, give away enough books, hopefully your name gets out there. Hopefully you'll attract positive reviews. Hopefully word of mouth will spread, you'll make some money. Money is great.

My buddy @Hunter Shotz mentioned to me recently that his best selling book White Slave has sold nearly two thousand copies since he first released it- and it doesn't have a single review.

You know you want to read that shit.

White Slave 2 and 3 (it's a continuing series of short stories that was collected both in The White Slave Collection and our book The Cuckold Diaries) have sold similar numbers and also have no reviews. His amount of returns is minuscule. (This isn't just him talking; I've seen his spreadsheets.)

How is that possible?

Word of mouth. That's all we can figure. That and a great cover (which he also designed).

Hunter shrugs off the review system of Amazon and Pubit, because he doesn't really give a fuck what anyone thinks. The guy grew up in a favella down in Brazil, which makes the ghettos of America seem like Disneyland. His skin is about as thick as titanium. So to watch him put his work out there, and watch other writers rack up glowing reviews for work that isn't half as good, heartfelt, or sexy...it irks the shit out of me.

At the same time, I can totally understand people not wanting to review it on a website and risk "outing" themselves as someone who gets off on forced cuckold erotica.

I guess there is no easy answer.

Whoever you are out there, whoever is buying those books and putting a smile on my boy's face when you send him emails saying "Great story"...thanks. 

Anyway, (I'm high, forgive me for being long-winded) I said all this to say this: I've been back in the erotica game for less than a month and got my first review for The Bull, a short hardcore erotica story. "Every wronged woman's dream?"

Shit, that's a good tag line for the next time I write some cuckold stuff. "Every wronged woman's dream."

You have no idea, dear reviewer. I would have turned it into a snuff story if I said how I really felt.

It's been a long fucking year for me. I got divorced following a car wreck that nearly killed me. I overdosed on oxys. I was nearly raped by someone I thought was a dear friend.
 For nearly ten months, my life was chaos, hurt, depression, and disbelief. For someone who considers herself a strong, independant person, this year was almost more than I could bear.

The last two weeks made the previous ten months of cloudiness dissipate. I almost feel like I'm back to myself. My body is back to what it was two years ago. My mind gets stronger and more perceptive every day. And I owe it all to my art.

During its two-day free run on Amazon, I gave away over 400 copies of The Bull.

                                                   

At least one copy found its way to every corner of the world. Someone in fucking India downloaded it. The book peaked at #22 in the erotica section on Amazon.

And I got my first review. I got a four-star review from someone who obviously enjoyed my short little nothing of a story. A story I wrote in a few hours. It put a big-ass smile on my face and made me think, "I'm right to be doing this."
(I think that's what got me on that kick about Hunter earlier. I want him to feel the same way I felt when I logged in and saw that review.)

I published Desire's Flame, an erotic suspense novel that I worked on as a way to regain my sanity.

I have Tumblr followers who are becoming friends. I have a girl at work who confessed her lesbianism to me today. I might be investigating that tomorrow. She's so fucking gorgeous that I never would have had the guts to ask her out had I not started writing again.

 I have Hunter, who I know loves me, who inspired me to pick up the pen and start writing again. Maybe one day I'll be able to live closer to him. Maybe not, though; the two of us in the same location might be too much for city officials and disaster relief agencies to cope with. Like Eminem said, We're what happens when a tornado meets a volcano.

If he reads this, I'd give anything to have you hear right now, just to hear your annoying little monkey laugh and hang out like we used to, staying up all night smoking weed and talking about writing.

But that is the future. Right now is the present. And I know that next year isn't going to be as bad as this one was. I won't let it. I'm in love with my art, I'm in love with my life, and I'm going to kick this world's ass in revenge for 2013.

Love you.
V.