I keep returning to the fact that I am hiding from the reality of what I am writing, that, in some way, I have created an alter-ego that promotes what I write, that writes the dark erotica featuring the female vampires and their submissive male servers, that is someone I can hide behind.
But why am I distancing myself from this world? I didn't consciously plan to write it, but when the story took hold and the world formed around the characters, I was certain that I had something potent. Something that would interest readers - if done well.
I had to make it good. I had to write it well. I had to burn the hours. Invest time and money. Research, get help, go down dead ends and waste money (did I?), in order to realise this writing world that I wish to be my life.
By that, I mean that I wish to take my writing to a wider audience. Fuck the niche market (and I mean that in the nicest possible way - thank you all niche lovers ), I want this out there and seen, read and enjoyed.
And yet here I am, cloaked in a disguise. Who am I? What is my 'real' name? How much of my writing is me and how much is fantasy (erotic or other)? How far am I willing to go to make this more than just a niche story? And what is holding me back?
Well, here we go then. My story is likely similar to others and it is one that is unhealthy. Brought up in the religion of the Christ I knew nothing beyond this worldview. Sunday school on Sundays. Church as well, often in addition to the morning indoctrination. When older, it was church youth club and that would also be an add on to the Sunday service (Church of England version). Home was a good place overall. No family rows, no domestic abuse, but it was a passifist's home. And it was also a home of guilt, of embarrassement, of sexual repression. My parents showed zero physical contact with one another . No kiss goodbye from dad to mum as he went to work, no hugs or hand holding. Zero. And separate chairs. I got hugs though and a kiss too. Nothing weird or abusive, just normal affection to the kids.
But when it came to any kind of intimacy - which was usually seen on TV - the guilt trips were so horrid. If I showed interest in the opposite sex, well, that was repressed, warped, distorted. And my god, was I made to feel guilty.
Porn was an outlet for this frustrated young man who had been force-fed guilt for having natural desires and inclinations. It became a release valve, but porn is a dead end for sure, and not a healthy one (I'm not anti-porn, I do like some of it, btw).
I wrote an erotic story when I was a teen, expressing my desire for a girl I was at school with (I think was around 17 at the time). I actually threw it away, ripped it up and threw it in the bin. My mother pieced it together and confronted me about it, again with the guilt trip. Again, how to make me feel so bad for actually being a normal young man.
On another occasion a mate stayed round my house along with a girl we knew. My friend went early to work, leaving me and the young woman alone in my bedroom. Nothing happened (sadly, for me) but when my mum saw us in the morning, you would have thought the girl was the Whore of Babylon for the treatment she was given. And I felt so embarrassed (once again).
I just think of my upbringing as growing up with Carrie's mum, only sadly I had no psychokinetic powers to defeat the bullies. And there were plenty of them.
Mum would cover my eyes or put a tea towel over the TV if an intimate scene appeared. She would tutt and um and ah and figit and want the channel changed. It was so uncomfortable. God it was horrid.
I regard it now as a form of sexual abuse, only it was humiliation projected onto the children. Writing this now, I feel angry. This is one of the reasons that I went down the Left Hand Path, yet, for all my time in the dark occult world, I remained repressed, embarrassed and very frustrated, such was the damage caused by my mother during years that should have been so much more normal, so much healthier, teaching a young male teenager what a good and healthy sexual relationship looked like.
It was not until my thirties that I began to free myself from this sickness, but there was still so much that was not healthy. A real, long-term relationship was still an intangible dream. I was still so damaged from the bullying and the guilt.
And now, here I am, a fully mature adult and yet I still am not free. Why else am I hiding behind the author name PG Devlim (a partial anagram of my 'real' name)?
I am at a point where I have to leap off the cliff (as a friend said to me today), where I have to say, fuck what people think (which itself is an important Left Hand Path teaching) and just be me.
Yeah, words are easy to write, but how will I feel when I look people in the eye and they know what I write? Will I just see my mother looking back at me, judging me, trying to make me feel guilty? Fuck!
Fuck that! So:
Hello, my name is Paul and I write very hot and dark erotica featuring powerful female vampires and their naked male servers.
Ladies, please enjoy the empowerment.
Gentlemen, please remove your clothes...