One of my pet peeves is the pop-culture assumption that no one over thirty has sex, and if they do, they’re probably not very good at it. Guess again! Let’s here it for experience. Check out this fabulous article in today’s Times
Archive for ‘Blog’
Reading the good parts!
Remember when you were an adolescent, always skipping to the naughty parts in every book, a book you probably weren’t supposed to be reading in the first place. Actually, it was always easy to find the naughty parts because the books, any book any adolescent ever had hold of, would always just fall open to those bits from frequent perusing, if you get my meaning.
Imagine a whole book of nothing but naughty parts! Wow! Does it get any better?
Wow! Check this out from Scarlett French. Am I going to be in amazing company or what?!
“Are you already sick of ‘Jingle Bells’? Fancy a bit of subversion to make you feel normal?
Then come to Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium (Hoxton Square, London N1) for a bit of pre-Christmas aural porn – this Friday, 18th December, 7pm.
Scarlett French and K D Grace will be reading from the recently launched Best Women’s Erotica 2010
Jacqueline Applebee will give us a little taster of Best of Best Women’s Erotica, due out early next year.
In addition to these consummate pleasures, I have great delight in announcing that we will have with us the sublime Violet Blue, author of many bestsellers including The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus, The Ultimate Guide to Fellatio, The Ultimate Guide to Adult Videos, and How to Kiss. She is also the editor of the Best Women’s Erotica series and many other erotic anthologies. She is a high profile blogger and tech personality and can found at www.tinynibbles.com (and at Sh! this Friday!)”
The venue is limited to thirty people, so if you want to come, please call Joanna at
0207 613 54 58.
57 Hoxton Square
London N1 6PB
I once sat through a reading of four fairly well-known romance writers, who had great stage presence, read beautifully from their new best sellers, and answered the audience’s questions with the level of expertise one would expect from people who make their living as writers. That is until they were asked about writing sex.
There was a frisson of embarrassment across the stage and a lot of shifting and shuffling and throat clearing as all four made excuses for why they were uncomfortable writing sex and therefore didn’t do it if they could avoid it. Then the question was dismissed with all the gravity a question about the proper shade of lippy might have been.
I wanted to shout, ‘This is sex! It’s the biggie! It’s what romance leads to! It’s what made us all! Beyond the shouting, sex is the powerful leveler of persons that strips us of our facades and brings us down to the deepest part of ourselves, and occasionally the best part. It exposes our animal nature with all its crudeness and all its charm. Sex is one of the best ways for a reader to get to know a character. With that in mind, I can’t imagine why all writers aren’t dying to write their next sex scene.
I appreciate a good sex scene in a novel – any novel – because sex in fiction, no matter how dangerous, is always safe sex. I enjoy writing erotica because it allows me, and my reader, to experience sex vicariously, safely, in ways we would never experience it in the real world. In some cases it’s only to see what the appeal of being there is. In other cases it’s the fulfillment of fantasy on the written page done safely without leaving the comfort of the recliner. For me, as writer and reader, there’s also the added excitement of sharing fantasies with total strangers.
I’m told I don’t look like the type of woman who would write erotica, but the more I write, the more I wonder why the type of woman who writes erotica shouldn’t be Everywoman. We all have fantasies, and I can speak first hand as to how hot it is to write those fantasies down – in detail. No one needs to read them but ourselves. Hey, it’s a cheap sex toy – a piece of paper and a pen – a hot pink one, maybe??? It’s safe sex at its best. The world of the written page has always allowed us to walk in other dimensions, other realities, other times, and to see the world through the eyes of other people. Why shouldn’t sex be included in those other realities?
Coming home from the States on a night flight a couple of weeks ago, unable to sleep, I found myself watching the film, The Ugly Truth, with Gerard Butler and Katherine Heigle. Butler’s character is trying to help Heigle’s character develop a relationship with a hot doctor. He asks her how often she masturbates. Horrified, she says she doesn’t do that sort of thing, to which he replies, ‘If you don’t want to make love to yourself, what makes you think anyone else will want to?’
According to Wallace Shawn, “Sex really is a nation of its own. Those whose allegiance is given to sex at a certain moment withdraw their loyalty temporarily from other powers. It’s a symbol of the possibility that we might all defect for one reason or another from the obedient columns in which we march.”
I’ll admit it; I’m a defector to that nation of sex. It’s a large nation with lots of room, and I’m inviting everyone I know to defect and enjoy.
You can read Wallace Shawn’s great essay about writing sex here: