Longtime readers will remember my brief career as a pornographer. Even newcomers might know about this; if you're viewers of Strange the World (especially this episode, which is NSFW-ish, since my dick is seen on Kevin Strange's phone in one scene), you'll know certain elements of my past.
When I was younger, I thought I'd sell my talents as a writer cheaply in the name of porn. As it turned out, porn was waaaaaaay more lucrative than regular writing, especially since I was willing to write gay porn.
But never mind that. It's all documented, and you know about it. Here's something you might not know: writers today don't have to deal with tear sheets. Some of you older writers might recognize the term. Back in the old days, if you wanted a regular writing position with a publication, you had to send them tear sheets. In other words, you had to take your contributors copies and rip out the pages your work is on. Then, you send them to the prospective publisher with a query. If you're lucky, you get hired. If you're sorta' lucky, you get a reject letter with your tear sheets back. If your luck completely sucks, then you get no response, and you have to find new copies of your shit so you can get fresh tear sheets again.
Luckily, I came in near the end of the tear sheets age. I didn't have to do this very often. Even so, I didn't feel comfortable with destroying the only copy I had of my shit. What did I do instead? I made photocopies. Keep in mind, this is in an age when your basic home printer did NOT have a scanner or photocopy capabilities. So, what did I have to do?
I had to find a photocopier for public use. I could go to the library, but they charged 10-cents a copy. However, the drug store charged 5-cents. I had to go with them, because I could barely afford to copy my own tear sheets.
As you can imagine, back then I wanted work as a pornographer because at the time, it was the only genre I had success in. Of course I'm going to look for more work in that area. So I had to send in tear sheets. So . . . guess who had to make photocopies of his tear sheets? IN PUBLIC?! That's right.
Picture this: I'm standing in line at the pharmacy photocopier. The little old lady in front of me is having problems because she doesn't understand the technology. I have to give her words of advice to fix it. As soon as she's gone, I have to make my own copies. One of which involves a guy sucking his own dick. (OK, that wasn't on a tear sheet, but I wanted to have something I could slip into friends' belongings, just to fuck with them when they least expected it. Many of them were alpha males deathly afraid that someone might find evidence that they were gay. So yeah. Fuck 'em. But there is plenty of smut on the pages I'm copying. So yeah.) I'm copying all sorts of horrid shit, Meanwhile, the young woman behind me is waiting for me to be done so she can copy her son's medication instructions. How awful a person must I be?
Could you imagine what would have happened if the copier had jammed? Or if something else had gone wrong? What if I'd walked away to get help just as my copy came out, and the single mom behind me tried to sneak a few copies in? What would she say upon seeing the horrible acts of full-penetration porn she'd find on the tray?
It was honestly nerve-wracking, because for as much shit as I talk, I would be very embarrassed if someone discovered I was copying porn at a pharmacy copier. That's creepy might-fuck-your-child-if-you-turn-your-back shit.
Luckily, that never became an issue. No one ever caught me copying pictures of dudes getting their dicks sucked, either by dudes with impressive cocks or by chicks with great tits. But I'm sure I would have been in the police reports if I had been. Yikes.