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    A great dilemma I’ve often found myself faced with now comes swirling back at me. Of course I refer to what I’m going to do with all the erotic science-fiction that I’ve written over the years.

    Now, erotic science-fiction is one of the hardest genres to crack into, and I have yet to figure why this is so. After much analysis of the genre, and research into its history, I’ve realized that (as is the case with standard fiction) the market itself is dominated by only a handful of publishing houses. For instance, a certain publishing house holds claim to the title of "best erotic science fiction anthology" for the years 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, and 1998 (I don’t know what happened in 1997, but God help us all). They’re like the Celtics of erotic science-fiction. Or, let’s call it what it is: "porn in space".

    It should be noted that I’m quite uncertain as to who’s been handing out such awards as "best erotic science fiction anthology" and "best alien love scene", but my guess is it’s done somewhere in Amsterdam.

    The most ironic thing, I find, is how such publishing houses reject everything I send them for not being up to their standards. Let me tell you, that’s a pretty low blow coming from a place that publishes erotic science-fiction.

    Nevertheless, it is my belief that erotic science-fiction is a genre that fills a need where there is a gap. Namely, the need for science-fiction that is erotic; that stirs the emotions as well as the mind. It is a testament to man’s spirit, and the eternal power of love. It is also a testament to Jacques’s inability to find a date.

    The following are samples (excerpts, if you will) of erotic-science fiction I’m hoping to distribute; the royalties of which I’m hoping to retire upon some day:


    The Martian stood upon a rocky boulder. If she would not come to him, he would come to her. But no-- she would be his of her own free will. That is the way of the erotic Martian pirate.

    -Excerpt from The Erotic Martian Pirate, and Other Bedtime Stories for Children


    Zlgzznitz, mistress of the ore processing plantation of Zlinnat-6 licked her lips seductively. Adgoqndniooo’tliazngotaleritanoantuee planted a moist kiss upon her neck. Two days later, the spores of a new master race had formed on her neck. Adgoqndniooo’tliazngotaleritanoantuee cackled with delight: "Ah, soon there will be an Adgoqndniooo’tliazngotaleritanoantuee Jr.; and I will be unstoppable."

    -Excerpt from Tales of Sensual Ore Processing


    The tentacled creature began to breathe out words in a thick Spanish accent, wooing the flatulent girl. The girl caressed its octopus-like head. For a moment, some area in the back of her unconscious mind suddenly feared that it was in fact an octopus, before banishing such foolish notions from her thoughts. Silly girlish musings would only serve to destroy the sensuality of the moment. But no longer was she a girl; for today, she was a woman.

    -Excerpt from C++ Technical Manual


    Its antennae slowly wiggled up her spine as she shrieked out in the passionate dance of lovemaking. "This is so erotic," she thought to herself as it sensually and tenderly began to suck her brain out through her ears. Chunky pink ooze squirted everywhere as she got drunk off the slow, dull rhythmic sensation of body-snatching; as stupidity slowly crept in. She arched her back, and then, everything went dark.

    -Excerpt from Cynthia Bangs a Martian

    *

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