Turns out, this whole "dinosaur erotica" business (in case you missed it, enjoy!) isn't just an amusing internet novelty—it's actually a lucrative career for a couple of enterprising Texas college students. Christie Sims and Alara Branwen (not their real names) only started writing and self-publishing erotica a year or so ago, and they've both already managed to quit their day jobs and write about velociraptor schlong full-time. For money. American human money. In other news, WHAT AM I EVEN DOING WITH MY LIFE.
The Cut interviewed the gals about their newfound infamy. Not only are they making "more than an accountant," they sound like kind of a nonstop pizza party to hang out with. They're irreverent and funny and yes, they understand that what they do borders on the absurd. (Both coyly avoid specifying whether or not they're personally turned on by the idea of being ravaged by a pterodactyl's heaving flaps, but why is that any of our biz? Clearly some people are, and YOU DO YOU, THOSE PEOPLE.)
I toyed with the idea of quitting and going back to work. But one day, I was walking and I thought about the movie Jurassic Park. My perverse mind immediately went to my work, and I pictured dinosaurs having their way with women. I died laughing. I was about to dismiss these thoughts as the workings of my freaky mind, but then I had an epiphany. Dinosaur erotica was something new that I’d never tried before.
...We don't want to get into actual numbers, but let's put it this way: Combined, Christie and I make more money than our friend who has been working as an engineer at Boeing for a few years and Christie's friend who is a five-year accountant in Dallas, Texas.
To be clear, their erotica profits combined are as much as a Boeing engineer—they don't make that much individually, YET—but they haven't been at this for very long, so who knows where they might end up. They certainly know how to stir up attention.
And regardless, writing hilarious niche erotica totally seems like something a person could do on the side, right? Part time? To supplement their, say, professional lady-blogger paychecks? What I'm saying is that I'm positive I could write an 18-page story about a lady getting pounded by a triceratops schlong in one weekend. And then, megabucks!!!
Here's Sims and Branwen's advice for people looking to get into the self-published erotica money factory:
If you find a market that is underwritten (like the dinosaur-erotic market was) or doesn't exist, populate it. Write a few stories in it and see how they do.
Once you have stood out, keep writing and giving the people what they want. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication to become a professional writer.
Okay. An underwritten erotica market? I didn't think such a thing existed in the age of internet self-publishing, but there must be something missing. Somewhere. And I will find it. Oh, yes, I will. And then I will use all of the sex-words that make me uncomfortable—even "clit" and "horny"—and I will write an erotic tale the likes of which the internet's genitals have ne'er seen, and I will find a stock photo of a Barbizon bikini babe and superimpose her over a a pic of, I don't know, a giant Lego man with a boner ("I shuddered in ecstasy as he clicked into me..."), and I'll call myself Flandara Gwyrme, and I'll sell a million billion copies, and next stop: L-$HAPED $OFA FOR LINDO!!!!$$!!$!!$!
Seriously, if you guys'll buy it, I'll write it.