…the soundtrack to Fifty Shades is a bestseller.

Why, honestly?! What about this utter dross makes it attractive? Why is the association with a piece of awfully bad prose so vital?

I don’t think I want to be a part of the publishing establishment if this is what I can expect from it. And these are the stewards of our culture? The self-appointed guardians of literature?

No, let’s be honest. It’s a business, and they’re just as likely to whore themselves out for money as any other. Money, not art, is the name of the game. And they can flounce around and say that books like Fifty Shades support other, more highbrow work, but it’s largely bullshit. They’re a business. Money comes first. They’re legendarily not into the habit of publishing non-economically-viable books.

I’m perfectly willing to admit that I write porn for money. And for my own amusement. I’m not going to pretend it’s anything more than what it is – and what it is, is cleverly disguised wanking material. Nothing more and nothing less.

I’ll let you know if I decide to become even more pretentious, of course, and try my hand at literary fiction. But I will never try to bullshit you about why I write.


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