I noticed a familiar question in the comments yesterday. “Have you ever thought of writing a book?” I get asked that all the time. It’s flattering. And someday I probably will write a book all about my experiences as a sex worker.

Not for a long time, though. Because you see, if you write a tell-all book, you better just write the end on your career in the sex industry, too, because it’ll be all over. Whether you meant to retire or not, your sex work business will tank. I’ve seen it happen before. There are several reasons why.

The primary thing is: it’s going to make clients, both existing and potential, nervous. And justifiably so. Some of my guys have given me permission – even encouragement – to mention details of our sessions in this blog. But most people are concerned about their privacy, and I don’t blame them. Discretion is a big part of what I offer. Even if/when I do write a memoir, I will be extremely careful to fuzz up the details, and the sheer passage of time is a filter all by itself. But publishing a book now would send a message: what happens in Vegas doesn’t necessarily stay in Vegas. That’s not a message one wants to send if one is still in the business.

There are other things as well. The legal problems are less an issue for me than they would be for, say, a full-service escort. But I still exist in a gray area, and to some degree, I am dependent upon the fact that law enforcement simply has bigger fish to fry than lil’ ole me. I’m high-profile enough as it is, with The Stranger column. Publishing a book would only increase the chances that some politician with a moral axe to grind decides to make a fuss about why this perverted harlot is allowed to ply her disgusting trade in our fair city, etc, etc.

There’s also the mystery factor. Once you show people what’s behind the curtain, the wizard isn’t very impressive anymore. Obviously I’ve chosen to reveal certain things, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing about my career at all. But I pick and choose, leave many things unsaid, and spin events to best illustrate the points I want to make. This is, after all, just a blog. It is understood to be a casual and limited form of writing.

But a book is different. To write a worthwhile memoir, you can’t be so selective, you can’t leave out crucial facts and events that shaped the experiences you’re writing about. You have to at least acknowledge all the realities, or else you’re lying to your readers, and the book becomes a hollow shell. I personally know of several women who’ve written books about their sex work experiences who chose to leave out significant pieces of information about their lives. It made reading their books a somewhat odd experience for me. When it’s my turn, I don’t want to do that.

This is my career. I plan on doing it for a good long time. So, no memoir for a while. Ask me again in ten years.

I have thought about writing something that draws on what I’ve learned as sex worker without actually detailing exactly what I did, when, with whom. A sex-advice book would be fun, and I could carefully seed it with selected stories of my own. Or a book about poly, or kink in general.

However, at the moment, I’m pursuing other venues for my writing. I’m interested in writing non-kinky fiction, and I have a finished manuscript that I’m in talks with an agent about. I say finished, but of course, no book is ever really finished until it goes to press, and I need to polish mine up here and there.

But sorry, I can’t tell you any more about it here, because when it gets published, it’ll be under another name. Actually, I hardly even talk about the MS with people in real life, because I think the more you talk about a writing project, the less you do it. I’m sort of superstitious that way. So when it sells, I’ll probably mention it, but until then, I’m not inclined to chat about it.

I just have to do it.