When I was ten years old, I lived in a really small village that had one public library. It was only open three days a week and was about the size of a studio apartment. One day they were selling used books that had long since stopped being borrowed. This was the first time I would come across a Marquis de Sade book: Justine, but the book that really stood out was a small paperback with a bright pink cover: The Punishment, by some unknown author. The cover featured a naked women kneeling in a puddle of cum. My best friend bought the copy of Justine and I bought a little pink book that I tried to conceal among my other finds of the day. I read cover to cover several times, but not before painting over the naked picture of the woman kneeling in cum with a fresh coat of metallic blue nail polish. I eventually lost that particular copy when I lend it to someone who never returned it. That's one facet of who I was and of who I've become. I like sex, I like writing about it, I don't think we should live in a society where the first thing someone does after buying an erotic novel is hide it under a mess of nail polish, because of what other people might think.