Over at the Grumpy Old Twat's jolly place of merriment and revelry (He's only Santa for one day a year, kids. This is what he does the rest of the time), Anna Raccoon sets out her reasons for leaving.
I have not experienced such threats, because there is nothing to threaten me with. I have no employer, my family know who I am. They are mixed Italian/Welsh and if you criticise any one of us to another's face, even the one who has spent some time in prison and who is Not Mentioned, you'll be lucky to leave with your own face intact. If you want to try the 'paedo' tag well, I do not, have never, and will never work with children in any capacity whatsoever, which will make a libel case a walk in the park. I have only ever taught at college and university level and only at HND to PhD level. I have always heeded the helpful advice printed on plastic bags - keep away from children. They are too fast, too unpredictable, too loud and they have dreadful table manners. I could never understand the paedo mind because to me, it's like finding something erotic in hyenas.
Therefore I cannot appreciate the pain Anna Raccoon describes because I am not capable of experiencing it. However, I can understand the reasons she gives for quitting.
Besides, there is no point hunting me down. I will be outed by my own hand in April 2011. It cannot now be avoided.
April 2011 is when my first novel is slated for release (as long as I don't bugger up the deadlines). It will appear under the imprint 'Damnation Press' which I am delighted about. I couldn't have chosen a better name. At that point, I can no longer hide behind this mask because if I do I will be cutting off my nose to spite my face. I can't promote a book without telling anyone whose name is on it.
There is a second one ready to go as soon as this one is done, and a third already first-drafted. The 'Ghosthunters' is not yet complete because it's a dystopia and real life keeps getting ahead of it.
In April I out myself. If anyone wants to go to all the trouble of doing it sooner, knock yourself out. It will, ultimately, be a waste of time.
Oh, and if you have a copy of that Lulu book you have my name anyway.
Well... one of them.