When I first started writing, I had visions of book tours and talk shows. I know I’m not at that level yet, and it might never actually happen for me as an erotica author. Sure, there’s that small possibility I could put together a novel and hit the big time–but I know the chances of that are remote. The days of authors traversing the country and stopping at book stories is coming to an end. Not only are brick and mortar stores disappearing, the expense of doing such travel is so high it’s practically impossible to embark on them. Today, I’m pleased to promote Cheeky Spanking Stories, edited b Rachel Kramer Bussell as part of the official blog tour. (Oh, just so you know…the link on the picture to the left is an affiliate link, and I do earn about .04 on each purchase.)
While there is a lot of excitement around being published–officially going from “writer” to “author” is alot of fun, it’s not why I write. I hate the fact that my answer to the question “why do you write?” is like almost anyone else’s answer. I write because...I have to. It sounds trite because it’s pretty much what everyone who does write says about why they write. It’s a compulsion. If I don’t find time for writing, I get cranky and moody. I snarl at my family members, and I begin to throw or slam things around. It’s like my body begins to need some sort of dramatic release if I can’t do it through writing.
When people ask me “why do you write erotica?” the answer is a bit more specific than “I have to.” I am in a writing class where there is a huge variety of genres represented. I don’t think any of us are working on an ertotic fiction (even me). Three of us are working on various forms of mysteries (my other love and what I am working on under my legal name), two are writing supernatural romance, one is writing literary fiction, another is working on a memoir, another three are working on sci-fi, another is writing fantasy, and there’s another that defies classification. The first night in class I mentioned I was published in anthologies in erotic fiction and would like to work on the novel form. I struggle with longer works, and I decided to take this class to help with plotting, structure and pacing. One woman was obviously bristling at the term, and I asked her if she would be offended if I were to work on sexually explicit writing while in this class. To her credit, she said she would rather not be exposed to it or have to critique “such things.” She is also the woman writing literary fiction. The nose in the air was particularly pointed in my direction. I said that I had another work in process I would be happy to work on and decided to focus on that mystery I started during last year’s NaNoWriMo project. No problem for me, but I get a secret bit of glee knowing that even in that mystery there are some pretty hot sexual topics and imagery likely to pop up. I can’t help myself.
And there’s the answer to why I write erotica. I can’t help it. I…love…sex…I am interested in sex, and I love writing about it. I love to explore the relationships between people and what they do together with their bodies. I’d like to think most of my stories go beyond two (or more) people meeting and ending up in bed together. I try to find genuine circumstances where a character can grow and change in some way through the course of the story. I find that, if the sex doesn’t have a reason for being there, it’s just…sex. And that, in and of itself, is boring. There’s nothing more tiring than writing a sex scene when a relationship and pattern for a couple is wholly established and there is nothing ‘new’ happenging for either character. So, I am continually looking for new and interesting ways for people to need, have, and experience sex.
I also get asked, how much of your real life is part of your writing? I have learned that there is a delicate balance between writing what you know and have experienced and what you don’t know and have only researched. When I look at my colleagues, like Jade, who regularly writes from direct experience, I usually think…”wow…My life and my writing are…not the same.” Most of my erotica takes form fully in my little fantasizing mind. I take bits and pieces of real experiences and weave them in. For example, in my story in this collection, Birthday Boy, the only things that are part of my real life experiences are that I am in a long term monogomous relationship, and that we did actually go to the Alexis hotel once–to celebrate our anniversay. Oh, okay, I do own a pair of black boots, and maybe might own a black leather skirt…but that’s pretty much where the comparisons end. My last blog post links to an excerpt of my story in this collection, so you might take a look at that and then click the link above to buy the collection.