Is Real Sex Really Sexy?

I’m about to embark on an exciting and hopefully not too painful experience—I’m writing an erotic novel under contract with the UK publisher, Orion, who is launching a series of “literary” dirty books dubbed “Neon.” (I hope my cover has a nice neon sign in Japanese characters.) Yes, it’s scary, although I’ve been mulling over my material for many years now and it feels ripe. It’ll have a lot of exotic information about Japan and my main character is an insatiably horny woman who has sex with lots and lots of men. How can I go wrong?

Well, you never quite know what makes a piece of writing soar, even though the raw material seems promising. So, in my typical fashion, I’ve turned to books for the answer. Other erotica as examples and a few writing how-to’s for advice. I picked up a very helpful tip from Scott Edelstein in his book, 100 Things Every Writer Needs to Know. On page 22 Edelstein advises: “To get the most out of writing, write what you would enjoy reading.” Later he elaborates: “The more interested you are in what you’re writing, the more interested your reader will be.” And since repetition is always good when you lecture, he concludes: “Write something you yourself would want to read.” And that is exactly what I’m going to try to do. At the very least, it makes the writing process more fun if I myself am laughing and crying and getting turned on. Plus, this seems like the kind of basic common sense that will help me through some sticky or slow times in the process.

So, what exactly do I want to read? I actually know the answer to this question--for a change. I want to read a dirty story that feels real to me. A lot of sex stories out there (and there are many, many exceptions of course, especially in the anthologies my stories are in!) strike me pure fantasy, which may be what some readers want, but it keeps me from getting truly involved in the flow of it. Everyone in these books has an orgasm, or two or three, in the abundant sexual encounters that happen every few pages like clockwork. No one ever has doubts or regrets. No one hesitates to jump into bed with the next absurdly attractive stranger of whichever sex who bounces down the road. There’s no jealousy. No new sex trick ever hurts or falls flat. It all just happens, effortlessly, in an ever-ascending arc of outrageous acts, each which proves more fulfilling than the next. Again, I can understand the appeal of this fantasy of nonstop thrills with no consequences, but it doesn’t really do it for me. What I like—and I’m not saying I can pull this off—is a glimpse into the real experience of sexual intimacy. And maybe some would think what happens in real life is exactly what you’re trying to escape when you read erotica. But I’m more of a voyeur. I want to know what sex is really like for other people and I have a companion urge to tell other people what it’s like for me. Some criticize Susie Bright’s BAE series for being too dark, but I’d argue that the stories always touch on something real. And I can’t lose myself in a story unless it has something that resonates deeply as truth. But here’s the thing—real sex can be magic and that magic is much more powerful than any predictable genre fantasy I’ve ever rolled my eyes over.

So, I’m going to go for real and true in my erotic novel, although I’ll throw in lots of luscious descriptions of food and men’s bodies and wild sex. And while I hope lots and lots of people want to read it, I don’t have much control over that. What this will be is an experiment, a test as to whether Mr. Edelstein is right with his suggestion #12. Wish me luck!