Most people say “you don’t look like what I expected of an erotica writer.” Those who don’t say it are probably thinking it! No one has yet had the courage to tell me how the real me has differed from expectations. I know the popular image of the erotica writer at her desk probably involves a floozy wearing a corset, garters and stockings, and a damp thong, but surely my new friends wouldn’t think I’d wear such things to a meeting in public? It finally occurred to me the other day what the real message is.
They imagined I’d have larger breasts.
Not that size itself is the most important thing. Quality trumps quantity in my book, and I personally am quite satisfied with my endowment. But maybe, to please my public, I should consider breast implants.
What do you think?
Or maybe I should just shove a few dozen Christmas cookies in my shirt?