| Profile Statement:
He was new to 'Literotica', and it had been years since he had written a story, let alone a poem... years since he had even tried. The shadow man blinked and tried to focus on the computer screen. Maybe editing. Maybe he could do that. A humanities degree ought to be good for something, even at this late date; writing opinions about dead philosophers couldn't be so very different from editing fiction. And he'd certainly read, no matter what, down through the empty years. Some of those years could only be inferred from the yellowness of cheap paper. And a dull wonder of familiarity, looking at the spines. After a silence he found that he was seeing someone's dead, limp hands, just as one of them flinched, disturbing the other. "My grammar," they fumbled out, "is accurate, but unfortunately baroque." He smiled. He could catch bad grammar, at least. Just not grammar that was morally wrong. And he was always wondering questions. Not asking them, usually. But wondering. About continuity and characterization. Although 'plot'... things only ever happened because they happened, in the end. One story, perhaps. One fantasy. It didn't have to be a fantasy he shared. Just something alive, he thought, and then he realized he was looking at a box, a choice, with the words 'Sci-Fi & Fantasy' beside it. He swallowed. Erotic sci-fi or fantasy... that would be two fantasies, at once, in the same story. Could they live, conjoined? Or would one die, and poison the other? |
