Well, it took quite a while for this to happen, but here we are. I pop open my mails yesterday, and find the following. Quote:
It is unfortunate that you have decided to become an agent of subversion for the homosexual lobby. I quite liked your books until now.
Seeing as you did not bother to offer (me the reader) the courtesy of indicating the abnormal political/sexual sub-plot of your book on it’s dust jacket, I choose to reciprocate by not offering you the courtesy of perusing any of your future titles.
Reminds me a bit of Agent Smith’s spiel to Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. That scary-polite government psycho thing before he glues Neo’s mouth shut and dumps a cyber-worm in his belly-button. “Tell me, Mister Anderson, of what use is a word processor if you’re unable to….sell your books?” Or maybe: “From this day forth, Mister Morgan, either you choose to write red-blooded, violent and manly science fiction – or you choose to seek your readership elsewhere.” It’s that strained politeness, so squee-gee-and-soap-on-thin-glass, so nails-on-a-chalkboard screechy and brittle, that you’d almost rather you’d reeled in a roaring, foaming-at-the-mouth, Klan-robed ultra-thug – mainly because you know that really that’s what’s lurking just under that patina of psuedo-civilised disdain.
Homosexual lobby, fer fucksake???
Oh yes. “They are believed by some, Mister Anderson, to be the most dangerous lobby alive.”
To be honest, I had expected something like this much sooner. But my inherent lack of faith in human nature was confounded, and a remarkably cool attitude to The Steel Remains has prevailed up until now. Oh, there were a few adverse amazon rants, but I’ve grown accustomed to those (and seem to garner them anyway, whatever I write about). And we had some rather queasy talk about gratuitous sex scenes in a few web reviews and on some messageboards. But there was no actual nut mail before now.
But now, I’m left with this rather creepy image of a shadowy bookcase somewhere out in the mid-west, where my novels are shelved alongside Atlas Shrugged, the Sarah Palin autobiography, and the collected works of Ann Coulter.