by Jason Gibbs
I have an admission to make. I have been trepidatious. There are stories I have not written, or written and not published here, for fear of giving offense. Both wider offense, and specific offense, in some cases to people who are both dead and, if I were honest, would probably not be offended anyway. I have censored myself, and in a way that has undermined my creativity. Well no more.
I will write about whatever I want to. If it contains sexual themes, so be it. Violence, brilliant, controversial views on borders, drugs and prostitution, bring it on. If it challenges the orthodoxy, well then that’s good, because frankly the orthodoxy is stifling, and on many things wrong, or at the very least could do with some tweaking. I’m tired of conforming to things because that’s the way we’ve always done it, especially when many of those ‘always’ merely mean dozens or low hundreds of years. Human constructions can be changed by humans, they are not divine and age does not necessarily make them better, it might just make them moldy.
In addition, I will not add warnings to my writings. I will not put a little note saying that I’m depicting tobacco use, sexism, nudity or violence. No. In a world where there are now trigger warnings on Chaucer, CHAUCER for fuck’s sake! If you are of a sensitive disposition then my writings are probably not for you. Go somewhere else, read your echo chamber soft and soothing prose, and be happy in your Mrs Bucket like sanctimoniousness.
If you like what I write, I’m happy. If it challenges you to think, I’m happy. If it causes you to vomit copiously, then I suspect it was whatever you ate for lunch, and not my words at all. Assume I’ve made the usual pleas to share and spread the word, and if you like what I’ve written, please do buy my books.
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