Obviously the first best thing about going to the Smutmarket was a chance to see some friends I hadn’t seen since, well, the Before Times. And there were plenty of other good things about it, as well.
Smutmarket is at the boutique end of fetish fairs in that there’s only space for a select few stalls each time it takes place, but this means the regular punter is likely to have new exciting things to look at – and buy – every time they pop along. Also, for a trader who depends on public transport, this was a wonderfully low-hassle venue to reach – a short work from a station with lifts, with connections to Manchester, Stockport and other places nearby. Snacks and soft drinks are available onsite, but there are nearby takeaways and no prohibition on stashing a six-pack in your hand luggage if so inclined.
I had a thoroughly fun day selling books, gossiping and playing silly quiz games with some of the younger attendees and, speaking of the young, I was
startled but flattered on the journey home when I fell into amiable conversation with a bunch of also-homeward bound football fans. Now look, Cute Young Man trying to chat me up (yes, definitely, “So would you ever date a younger man, then?” and more…) I am old enough to be your nana! Shoo, you cheeky boy…
On an associated note, well, sort of, I am planning to re-release my own story from the now out-of-print fairly soon, along with a couple of other long short stories (including The Love Apple and one that will be new to you lot as it never made it into the anthology it was intended for due to needing a moderate amount of Additional Work. Once all that is tidied up, further details will be given. And when I go back to the Smutmarket, come along…