From time to time I check to see how my books are doing on Amazon.com. I check the ranking, review the descriptions, think about cover design and whether or not I can afford to have a better one done.
And, I look at the price. Now, since I set the price when I publish the book, that might seem odd, but the fact is that I only set the suggested retail price. Amazon can change the price at which they decide to sell the book, and so I sometimes see it available for a lower price, which I will occasionally announce so that anyone who's thinking about buying it will be tempted all that much more.
But today I looked at the price, saw that Amazon.com has Blowing It! available in paperback for $6.75, which is 75 cents below list—nice—but that someone else has it new for $6.32. Now, I have recently made the book available for expanded distribution, so that retailers other than Amazon can carry it. Now, this seller charges $3.99 for shipping, and if you buy it from Amazon with an order totaling $35 in eligible items, you can get it shipped for free, so Amazon is probably still a better deal.
It doesn't, by the way, make any difference to me.
But what was truly bizarre is that the price for used copies of Blowing It! start at (are you ready for this?) $19.05. For a used copy of a book that you can buy new for $6.32. Makes perfect sense.
And even stranger is that one seller (I'll leave it to your curiosity to find out which) sells the book for $999.11! If I could sell even one copy for that price, I would be very happy indeed. In fact, if you are of a mind to pay that kind of money for a copy, shoot me an email and I'll arrange it. I'll even throw in the shipping (which this seller doesn't)!
And let me make something perfectly clear. Blowing It! and Eric's Secret are print-on-demand titles. There is no such thing as a first edition, and they will be in print for as long as I want them to be. Each book is printed when you order it and not a moment sooner. There is absolutely no reason to pay more for a used copy of any of my books than for a new copy (although if you can find a used copy for less, jump on it).
Perhaps someday, when I'm dead and gone and my heirs decided to withdraw the books from circulation, existing copies will be worth the extra money, if only for the novelty. But for now, save your money and buy a new copy or a Kindle edition, and have a good read.
And use the money you save to buy some balloons. $992.79 will buy enough balloons to fill a house. And that, I can get next to.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
A Misconception
I'm not going to clarify anything about balloon fetishes in this post, but I am going to lay a myth to rest. And it goes like this:
"I would love to buy the Kindle version of (insert name of book here), but I don't have a Kindle."
I don't have a Kindle either, but I not only write books for the Kindle but I read them. On my computer, on my phone, and on my non-Kindle tablet. Kindle reading applications are available for iOS and Android, and for Mac and Windows. There's no official reader for Linux, but you can still read as long as you are connected with the Cloud Reader. If you can post to Facebook, you can read a Kindle book.
That said, there are a couple of advantages to print, enough that I bothered to put the short story Eric's Secret into print although it's only 34 pages. First, as I once heard someone say, the only hand-held device that doesn't lose its charge is a book.
And then there is the question of ownership. You may think you own the Kindle books you buy, but your access to them is controlled by Amazon. You can lend Kindle books for a short time, but you can't give them away or resell them.
Now for me, the author, this would seem to be a good thing. But the way I look at it, if you lend, give, or sell my book to your friends, I have another potential reader, who might recommend my books to others who will actually purchase their own copy.
And I personally think that if you buy a book, it should be yours to do with what you please as long as you don't violate my copyright in doing so.
That said, I do buy Kindle books, because they are convenient, often more affordable, and sometimes the only option.
But I'm trying to give you whatever options you choose.
"I would love to buy the Kindle version of (insert name of book here), but I don't have a Kindle."
I don't have a Kindle either, but I not only write books for the Kindle but I read them. On my computer, on my phone, and on my non-Kindle tablet. Kindle reading applications are available for iOS and Android, and for Mac and Windows. There's no official reader for Linux, but you can still read as long as you are connected with the Cloud Reader. If you can post to Facebook, you can read a Kindle book.
That said, there are a couple of advantages to print, enough that I bothered to put the short story Eric's Secret into print although it's only 34 pages. First, as I once heard someone say, the only hand-held device that doesn't lose its charge is a book.
And then there is the question of ownership. You may think you own the Kindle books you buy, but your access to them is controlled by Amazon. You can lend Kindle books for a short time, but you can't give them away or resell them.
Now for me, the author, this would seem to be a good thing. But the way I look at it, if you lend, give, or sell my book to your friends, I have another potential reader, who might recommend my books to others who will actually purchase their own copy.
And I personally think that if you buy a book, it should be yours to do with what you please as long as you don't violate my copyright in doing so.
That said, I do buy Kindle books, because they are convenient, often more affordable, and sometimes the only option.
But I'm trying to give you whatever options you choose.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Popping and Not Popping: The False Dichotomy
It's supposed to be the great divide between balloon fetishists: popper vs. non-popper, as if we could picture some great room with a line down the middle, and on one side the poppers would be gleefully destroying their balloons, and on the other the non-poppers would be lovingly protecting theirs. And presumably, for those non-poppers who are also phobic, the line down the middle would actually be a soundproof wall.
It's a silly picture, I know, but it's the kind of simplification I hear over and over again. I even get asked, frequently, "Are you a popper or a non-popper?"
Well, the pseudonym I chose might give you a clue. But the first name is not short for Timothy; it's short for timid. I'm what you might call a sometimes-phobic-sort-of-popper. And that's about as much categorization as I'm willing to commit to.
Each of us has a very individual relationship to balloons. For some it's very emotional, for others it's only sexual, and for others it may be both. And if you think that there is an perfect correlation between the emotional side of the relationship and a fetishist's position on popping balloons, you might find yourself quite surprised.
Take me, for example. I have a strong emotional attachment to balloons. I love having them around, and I used to rescue them from being popped when I was little. I will often keep balloons around for months, hanging up or hidden somewhere to play with. My first sexual interest in balloons revolved strictly around close, physical, non-popping contact with them. When they popped by accident, it scared me and made me sad. Parties were a nightmare.
But somewhere along the line, I also came to be sexually excited by balloons popping, and I am to this day. But the prospect of watching even an incredibly gorgeous, totally naked woman take a pin and pop a huge number of balloons very quickly leaves me not only unexcited, but highly disappointed. Because the pop is not what I'm after. The pop that excites me comes at the end of close contact, as with sitting or lying on a balloon, or with the total involvement of blowing up a balloon until it pops.
Pin, lighters, knives, high heels, fingernails, even bare feet don't do it for me; I want to see intimate involvement. The best, for me, is bare butt against not-too-tight balloon, with considerable bouncing before the balloon gives up.
But that's just me. All of the things that I mentioned that don't do it for me, do it for someone else. So when someone says they are a popper, they are only telling a small part of the story, most likely.
Same for non-poppers. Not wanting to pop balloons—and it can be about fear, about loss, or even about indifference—says nothing about how a fetishist enjoys balloons, and the variety of ways can be rather staggering.
And the crossover, what the so-called experts who like to classify things would call being a "semi-popper" (what does that mean, that you only pop half your balloons?), can get even more complicated still. There are those who don't pop that are still somewhat excited by the pop, or by the danger of the pop without the actual pop. Conversely, there are those for whom the pop is a buzzkill. There are also non-poppers who don't much care if a balloon pops, but they are just not excited by it.
So the next time you see an article or TV show about balloon fetishes that claims that we are neatly divided into "poppers, non-poppers, and semi-poppers," take it with a grain of salt, and maybe write in and set the record straight.
Or just send them here.
It's a silly picture, I know, but it's the kind of simplification I hear over and over again. I even get asked, frequently, "Are you a popper or a non-popper?"
Well, the pseudonym I chose might give you a clue. But the first name is not short for Timothy; it's short for timid. I'm what you might call a sometimes-phobic-sort-of-popper. And that's about as much categorization as I'm willing to commit to.
Each of us has a very individual relationship to balloons. For some it's very emotional, for others it's only sexual, and for others it may be both. And if you think that there is an perfect correlation between the emotional side of the relationship and a fetishist's position on popping balloons, you might find yourself quite surprised.
Take me, for example. I have a strong emotional attachment to balloons. I love having them around, and I used to rescue them from being popped when I was little. I will often keep balloons around for months, hanging up or hidden somewhere to play with. My first sexual interest in balloons revolved strictly around close, physical, non-popping contact with them. When they popped by accident, it scared me and made me sad. Parties were a nightmare.
But somewhere along the line, I also came to be sexually excited by balloons popping, and I am to this day. But the prospect of watching even an incredibly gorgeous, totally naked woman take a pin and pop a huge number of balloons very quickly leaves me not only unexcited, but highly disappointed. Because the pop is not what I'm after. The pop that excites me comes at the end of close contact, as with sitting or lying on a balloon, or with the total involvement of blowing up a balloon until it pops.
Pin, lighters, knives, high heels, fingernails, even bare feet don't do it for me; I want to see intimate involvement. The best, for me, is bare butt against not-too-tight balloon, with considerable bouncing before the balloon gives up.
But that's just me. All of the things that I mentioned that don't do it for me, do it for someone else. So when someone says they are a popper, they are only telling a small part of the story, most likely.
Same for non-poppers. Not wanting to pop balloons—and it can be about fear, about loss, or even about indifference—says nothing about how a fetishist enjoys balloons, and the variety of ways can be rather staggering.
And the crossover, what the so-called experts who like to classify things would call being a "semi-popper" (what does that mean, that you only pop half your balloons?), can get even more complicated still. There are those who don't pop that are still somewhat excited by the pop, or by the danger of the pop without the actual pop. Conversely, there are those for whom the pop is a buzzkill. There are also non-poppers who don't much care if a balloon pops, but they are just not excited by it.
So the next time you see an article or TV show about balloon fetishes that claims that we are neatly divided into "poppers, non-poppers, and semi-poppers," take it with a grain of salt, and maybe write in and set the record straight.
Or just send them here.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Can I Have Some Facts Here, Please?
I'm getting weary of cable television shows about balloon fetishism. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the balloon fetishists themselves, who want to tell their story and promote some understanding and maybe acceptance. And I have to admit that Dennis fared a lot better on The Discovery Channel's Forbidden segment as far as editing, lighting, and music than did his predecessors on similar shows in the past on TLC and National Geographic.
But what about research? What about facts? What about getting experts who (and I realize that this is a radical idea) actually know what the hell they are talking about?
Let's take the most recent show, Forbidden, as an example. Here are some of the ideas presented as fact through narration and by talking heads "experts" (whose names are not given on this particular show, leaving us no chance to check their qualifications):
"There are up to 250,000 'looners' worldwide." Anyone who says that they know how many people in the world have a balloon fetish are pulling figures out of thin air. At least the expert on Strange Sex had a study she was referring to, although she doesn't actually remember where the study came from (something I know from personal correspondence with the good doctor). I suspect the worldwide figure is probably higher, and the 250,000-500,000 for the US alone cited in Strange Sex is much too high, but there really is no way to tell. This is not the sort of thing that Nielsen runs a telephone survey on. ("Good afternoon, this is Mr. Johnson from A.C. Nielsen. I'd like to ask you about any sexual fetishes you have. Hello? Hello?")
"Looner lads outnumber ladies by 30 to one." I have no doubt that lady balloon fetishists are much rarer than gentlemen balloon fetishists, but no one knows the ratio with any certainty whatsoever.
"And they're mostly young—in their 20s to 30s." Excuse me? As a balloon fetishist in his mid-50s who has been corresponding with other balloon fetishists since I was in my mid-20s, and who acquired his balloon fetish in his pre-teens, I can tell you that this notion is patently ridiculous. We come in all ages.
"Balloons are brought out during special times, which would be one thing that would make it [sic] more likely to be a fetish object than something that you would see every single day." Yeah, right, that's why there are so many shoe fetishists because, you know, shoes only come out during special times. Who is this woman?
"Part of the thing that makes a balloon fetish too is the fact that it can look as though it's a sexual shape." This woman obviously has no idea why people develop fetishes. "Oh yeah, that balloon looks like a breast and that one looks like a penis, and that shoe looks like a ... shoe." She's really just making this up as she goes. I'm sure she's never talked to a real balloon fetishist in her entire life (at least not that she knows of).
"Unlike kids' balloons, which are made of cheap synthetic rubber, Dennis favors inflatables of premium natural latex." Good luck going into your local party store and finding a balloon made of synthetic rubber, which is not cheap at all. Although balloons might have more or less added chemistry, the balloons that kids play with are the same latex balloons we play with. We just don't play with them the same way.
Aside from the factual errors, there is the whole structure of this, with the talking heads and the little history of the invention of rubber balloons thrown in to make it sound like the show covers the entire subject.
With all due respect to Dennis, his approach to the fetish is only one aspect of a very, very broad subject. Popping was only mentioned by Dennis as something that just happens sometimes. For Dennis, as with non-poppers in general, that's an undesirable thing. But for others, myself included, balloons popping is an important part of the experience. And for many, it's the whole point of their fetish.
But back to the subject of "experts." I don't think anyone is a true expert on balloon fetishism. Those of us who have one tend to have a fairly narrow view. And I doubt that anyone, even a clinician, who does not have the fetish would devote the necessary time for true in-depth study.
But the cable channels have to have their talking heads, right? So they pick a handy psychologist or two and just ask them to talk on camera about balloon fetishes. And, not having treated a balloon fetishist before, because rarer than a balloon fetishist is a balloon fetishist who seeks treatment for it, this person coughs up whatever is in the literature (or what they remember from the literature, if they are too lazy or haven't been given time to look it up), plus whatever comes to mind about how they think a balloon fetish might play out.
Worse yet is consulting someone like Karen McIntyre, the "expert" from National Geographic's Taboo, who is a reporter who wrote a thesis paper about balloon fetishism while she was a journalism student. Look up her paper: it's full of bizarrely cute animated graphics. And somehow this one paper makes her an expert.
And one of Taboo's other experts was a sociologist. Now there's someone who really knows about sexual development!
It's not that I think the general public needs to know all the little details about our sexual interest in balloons—there are certainly more important things that they, and frankly we, should be devoting our attention to. But of the information that's out there, these shows are where the majority of non-fetishists find out about this unusual fetish.
And I think we'd all be a lot better off if they were getting information that actually contained some good old-fashioned facts.
But what about research? What about facts? What about getting experts who (and I realize that this is a radical idea) actually know what the hell they are talking about?
Let's take the most recent show, Forbidden, as an example. Here are some of the ideas presented as fact through narration and by talking heads "experts" (whose names are not given on this particular show, leaving us no chance to check their qualifications):
"There are up to 250,000 'looners' worldwide." Anyone who says that they know how many people in the world have a balloon fetish are pulling figures out of thin air. At least the expert on Strange Sex had a study she was referring to, although she doesn't actually remember where the study came from (something I know from personal correspondence with the good doctor). I suspect the worldwide figure is probably higher, and the 250,000-500,000 for the US alone cited in Strange Sex is much too high, but there really is no way to tell. This is not the sort of thing that Nielsen runs a telephone survey on. ("Good afternoon, this is Mr. Johnson from A.C. Nielsen. I'd like to ask you about any sexual fetishes you have. Hello? Hello?")
"Looner lads outnumber ladies by 30 to one." I have no doubt that lady balloon fetishists are much rarer than gentlemen balloon fetishists, but no one knows the ratio with any certainty whatsoever.
"And they're mostly young—in their 20s to 30s." Excuse me? As a balloon fetishist in his mid-50s who has been corresponding with other balloon fetishists since I was in my mid-20s, and who acquired his balloon fetish in his pre-teens, I can tell you that this notion is patently ridiculous. We come in all ages.
"Balloons are brought out during special times, which would be one thing that would make it [sic] more likely to be a fetish object than something that you would see every single day." Yeah, right, that's why there are so many shoe fetishists because, you know, shoes only come out during special times. Who is this woman?
"Part of the thing that makes a balloon fetish too is the fact that it can look as though it's a sexual shape." This woman obviously has no idea why people develop fetishes. "Oh yeah, that balloon looks like a breast and that one looks like a penis, and that shoe looks like a ... shoe." She's really just making this up as she goes. I'm sure she's never talked to a real balloon fetishist in her entire life (at least not that she knows of).
"Unlike kids' balloons, which are made of cheap synthetic rubber, Dennis favors inflatables of premium natural latex." Good luck going into your local party store and finding a balloon made of synthetic rubber, which is not cheap at all. Although balloons might have more or less added chemistry, the balloons that kids play with are the same latex balloons we play with. We just don't play with them the same way.
Aside from the factual errors, there is the whole structure of this, with the talking heads and the little history of the invention of rubber balloons thrown in to make it sound like the show covers the entire subject.
With all due respect to Dennis, his approach to the fetish is only one aspect of a very, very broad subject. Popping was only mentioned by Dennis as something that just happens sometimes. For Dennis, as with non-poppers in general, that's an undesirable thing. But for others, myself included, balloons popping is an important part of the experience. And for many, it's the whole point of their fetish.
But back to the subject of "experts." I don't think anyone is a true expert on balloon fetishism. Those of us who have one tend to have a fairly narrow view. And I doubt that anyone, even a clinician, who does not have the fetish would devote the necessary time for true in-depth study.
But the cable channels have to have their talking heads, right? So they pick a handy psychologist or two and just ask them to talk on camera about balloon fetishes. And, not having treated a balloon fetishist before, because rarer than a balloon fetishist is a balloon fetishist who seeks treatment for it, this person coughs up whatever is in the literature (or what they remember from the literature, if they are too lazy or haven't been given time to look it up), plus whatever comes to mind about how they think a balloon fetish might play out.
Worse yet is consulting someone like Karen McIntyre, the "expert" from National Geographic's Taboo, who is a reporter who wrote a thesis paper about balloon fetishism while she was a journalism student. Look up her paper: it's full of bizarrely cute animated graphics. And somehow this one paper makes her an expert.
And one of Taboo's other experts was a sociologist. Now there's someone who really knows about sexual development!
It's not that I think the general public needs to know all the little details about our sexual interest in balloons—there are certainly more important things that they, and frankly we, should be devoting our attention to. But of the information that's out there, these shows are where the majority of non-fetishists find out about this unusual fetish.
And I think we'd all be a lot better off if they were getting information that actually contained some good old-fashioned facts.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Update on Writings
I'm still not sure how the character in my new story, a phobic female non-popper who never throws away her balloons, makes the transition to being a popper. Usually this is the kind of thing I like to know before I start writing an actual manuscript. But somehow I just decided that I needed to write, to get to know the young lady before I put her through, well, whatever is going to change her mind and turn her life in a different direction.
So far, about a thousand words in, I still have no idea. But I think I know the character pretty well, so once I've reviewed a few ideas about how such a conversion might take place, I'll know which ones are not credible for her, and which are. With luck, one will stand out as being just right for her. I welcome any suggestions from those who have made the transition.
On the non-fiction front, I haven't gotten as many responses to my requests for research material as I had hoped, and I think I'm going to have to be a little more aggressive in going after information. Don't worry, I won't bite. But I will be asking people I know online (and find online) in a more direct manner as time goes on.
Meanwhile, I've decided that I am going to turn the one book into two books. The first will be a personal perspective on balloon fetishism, out of my own experiences and what I have observed over the past five decades that I have had these strong feelings for balloons. Why? Because I feel the need to get something out soon, to counter some misinformation that's already out there, and more that I expect in the near future (I won't go into detail about that—I just want some facts on our side).
And I don't want to give the second book, with real stories from real fetishists to show the depth and breadth of these feeling, short-shrift. I don't want to feel rushed to get something to press and find that I have left important aspects out, or misinterpreted what I've read online without getting the whole story.
So that's where I am now. I'll keep everyone up to date.
So far, about a thousand words in, I still have no idea. But I think I know the character pretty well, so once I've reviewed a few ideas about how such a conversion might take place, I'll know which ones are not credible for her, and which are. With luck, one will stand out as being just right for her. I welcome any suggestions from those who have made the transition.
On the non-fiction front, I haven't gotten as many responses to my requests for research material as I had hoped, and I think I'm going to have to be a little more aggressive in going after information. Don't worry, I won't bite. But I will be asking people I know online (and find online) in a more direct manner as time goes on.
Meanwhile, I've decided that I am going to turn the one book into two books. The first will be a personal perspective on balloon fetishism, out of my own experiences and what I have observed over the past five decades that I have had these strong feelings for balloons. Why? Because I feel the need to get something out soon, to counter some misinformation that's already out there, and more that I expect in the near future (I won't go into detail about that—I just want some facts on our side).
And I don't want to give the second book, with real stories from real fetishists to show the depth and breadth of these feeling, short-shrift. I don't want to feel rushed to get something to press and find that I have left important aspects out, or misinterpreted what I've read online without getting the whole story.
So that's where I am now. I'll keep everyone up to date.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Thinking About My Next Story
I'm starting a new short story, and I think this one is going to be about a non-popper who becomes a popper. Not venturing too far out of my own experience yet, but give me time!
My conversion experiences happened in my late teens, only about five years after my first sexual experience with balloons. It kind of started with the TV show Wonderama (if you're too young to remember Wonderama, try to find reference to the "Balloon Bottom Relay" on the Internet; you will not find any footage, which is just as well because all the participants were underage. But then, at the time, so was I).
Then a girl that I lusted over told me that she like to pop balloons by sitting on them. At first I was repelled by the thought, but since I wasn't repelled by the girl I started to have fantasies about her butt in such hard contact with a balloon, and my fetish took a very different direction after that.
But I think I'm leaning toward an adult conversion in this next story. I want to make sure I set up the character's fetish in such a way that the conversion is believable even after all his or her time being a non-popper (haven't decided if the main character is male or female yet).
That will probably involve a lot of time trying to recapture the way I felt before I was excited by balloons popping. I don't think that will be too hard; I still enjoy non-popping play, and I like to keep balloons around for a long time, as I've mentioned here before.
As to the actual conversion event, that will probably involve a lot of fantasizing. It's a tough job, but it's got to be done.
My conversion experiences happened in my late teens, only about five years after my first sexual experience with balloons. It kind of started with the TV show Wonderama (if you're too young to remember Wonderama, try to find reference to the "Balloon Bottom Relay" on the Internet; you will not find any footage, which is just as well because all the participants were underage. But then, at the time, so was I).
Then a girl that I lusted over told me that she like to pop balloons by sitting on them. At first I was repelled by the thought, but since I wasn't repelled by the girl I started to have fantasies about her butt in such hard contact with a balloon, and my fetish took a very different direction after that.
But I think I'm leaning toward an adult conversion in this next story. I want to make sure I set up the character's fetish in such a way that the conversion is believable even after all his or her time being a non-popper (haven't decided if the main character is male or female yet).
That will probably involve a lot of time trying to recapture the way I felt before I was excited by balloons popping. I don't think that will be too hard; I still enjoy non-popping play, and I like to keep balloons around for a long time, as I've mentioned here before.
As to the actual conversion event, that will probably involve a lot of fantasizing. It's a tough job, but it's got to be done.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
New Story, Available on Kindle
My new short story has just been published. It's called Eric's Secret.
Eric Walker is turned on by toy balloons. But he has kept that secret from his wife Gina during almost five years of marriage. Will a dream of his past force his hand? Does Gina have a secret of her own?
This time, the main character is a non-popper. I hope you enjoy this new story. I'm already cooking up an idea for the next one.
Eric Walker is turned on by toy balloons. But he has kept that secret from his wife Gina during almost five years of marriage. Will a dream of his past force his hand? Does Gina have a secret of her own?
This time, the main character is a non-popper. I hope you enjoy this new story. I'm already cooking up an idea for the next one.
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