Thursday, March 11th, 2004 • No Comments on Professional Writer, Closed Door
I write about sex, but this isn’t a sex blog. I mention this because a lot of people are discovering my site using keywords like sex and erotica. I’m sure they are sadly disappointed to show up here and find me talking about books, poetry, John Kerry and insomnia, among other things. That is not to say I will never talk about sex. It’s likely to come up because a) I write erotica, b) there are many issues that interest me with regard to sexuality and c) I happen to really like sex.
Having said all that, I’ve noticed the trend in sex blogs has exploded in the past few years. Essentially, sex weblogs are online journals written by real people about real experiences. At least, that’s what they claim. I think there is a hefty dose of creative license being taken in some cases as the writers blend fact and fiction to satisfy their readers as well as their own exhibitionistic tendencies. It’s like leaving your windows open for the neighbors to watch and making sure you put on a good show.
I’ve read several weblogs over the years that were either mostly or entirely about sex. Some are slick and well-written, some are achingly personal and human, some read like poorly conceived teenage fantasies. It’s a great big internet and there’s room for everyone, but I don’t really get why sex bloggers do it. For one thing, they almost always have to maintain their anonymity in order to write about the things they do. Remaining anonymous is difficult when you’re talking about your personal life. Names have to be changed, places and situations have to be altered, and still you run the risk of discovery.
For another thing, their hard work and writing skills are getting them nothing but a lot of hits on their web page, a need for ever increasing bandwidth and probably a fair amount of kinky fan mail. Oh, sure, there is the occasional book contract, as I mentioned regarding Belle de Jour. But for the most part, these naughty little weblogs are labors of love. It seems like an awful lot of work when some of these writers are good enough to get paid for their efforts.
Among my other writing credits, I write erotica. In fact, the bulk of my fiction writing for the past few years has been erotica—straight and lesbian. It’s fun and challenging to write about sex in a way that’s new and arousing. People have become so jaded by the internet and cable (not to mention the Super Bowl), it’s a kick to be able to write something that provokes a response. That’s true of anything I write, actually. And while I realize the word ‘erotica’ is equivalent to the word ‘porn’ to a lot of people, I’m writing about more than sex when I write erotica. My erotica is about relationships, identity, acceptance and love. Sure, it’s also about sex. Passionate, arousing, life-affirming sex. We should all be so lucky to have the kind of sex lives I write about.
Though I will occasionally write about sex and promote my erotica without apology, this will never be a sex blog. It’s doubtful you will ever see my fiction here unless it’s an excerpt to promote my work. And I won’t be writing any sexy vignettes about what I did last night or what I want to do this weekend. Not because the topic of sex embarrasses me, but because I choose not to be anonymous on the web. I prefer to give you a balanced picture of me and I try to be as honest as I can; but just like in my real day-to-day life, there are things I won’t share with everyone.
I want people to know who I am and read what I write. Sex is very important to me, but it is only part of who I am—and part of what I write.