By Lisabet Sarai
What would it take to get some respect
for erotic fiction? To transform erotica from its current scorned
status as pornography with a fancy vocabulary into a legitimate
branch of literature? Earlier this month, Remittance Girl addressed this issue, suggesting that “critical engagement” might help. In
critiquing and reviewing erotica, we need to consider the non-sexual
aspects of the erotic fiction we read, focusing on premise, plot,
pacing, characterization, thematic depth and language instead of, or
at least in addition to, whether the story gets us hot and bothered.
I wholeheartedly agree with her thesis,
which she expanded into a fantastic treatise on appropriate
objectives and approaches for critiques and reviews. I’d like to
offer another, complementary suggestion. To convince readers (and
critics) to take our genre seriously, we need to take risks.
What do I mean by that? Am I talking
about moving beyond portrayals of vanilla sex to incorporate edgier
and more controversial sexual practices? That’s one kind of risk,
certainly; there’s some likelihood we’ll alienate or “squick”
some segment of our readership. However, the risk to which I’m
referring is more fundamental. To have our work considered as
something more than gussied-up stroke stories, we need to risk
breaking the rules of the genre.
Of course, erotica already tends to be
less formulaic than genres such as mystery or romance. Nevertheless,
readers have some unspoken expectations:
- An erotic story will include
physical sex acts, with some expectation that the more explicit and
varied the sex acts, the better. - Characters in erotic stories will
experience at least one orgasm (each). - Characters in erotic stories will
experience physical pleasure on the way to orgasm. - Characters in erotic stories tend
to be at least somewhat attractive. - The story will end happily, in the
sense that the participants get what they want (sexual release).
These expectations are not equally
strong. In particular, the “happy ending” rule can be waived, in
so called “dark erotica”. However, as erotic romance becomes an
increasingly powerful force in the market, it has become more
difficult to publish erotic stories with tragic or otherwise negative
conclusions.
Stories that satisfy the expectations
above are likely to sell well. To some extent, readers are lazy (we
all are) and want experiences that offer familiar satisfactions, as
opposed to experiences that challenge them to think or feel something
different. If we write according to expectations, delivering what
readers are buying now, we’ll likely increase the size of our monthly
royalty checks. However, we may be undermining the reputation of the
genre as a whole.
I’ve been writing, publishing, reading
and reviewing erotica for more than a decade. Lately, the majority of
the stories I read have a depressing sameness. Even more alarming, I
find that I myself am reluctant to write stories that violate popular
expectations. I know that choosing to write an ugly or nasty
character, or to include only a minimal amount of actual sex, or to
leave a character frustrated, may interfere with my selling the story
– to publishers and to readers.
Great fiction takes risks. It stands
out from the crowd. The books and stories that most impress me tend
to be original, surprising, outrageous, even disturbing. If I aspire
to more than hack status, I must be willing to risk following my
intuitions instead of the rules.
At the moment, I’m working on an erotic
vampire story for the charitable anthology I’m editing, Coming
Together: In Vein. In my initial notions about the
conclusion, the main character does not get what he wants. He’s
desperate to be taken by the vampires, to be ravished, used, drained
dry. He wants to sacrifice himself to them, because he loves them so
deeply. However, his master and mistress refuse to grant his wish.
Instead, he’s left in the same state of unrelieved desire as when the
story opens.
As I considered this, I found myself
thinking, “Oh-oh. Readers won’t like that. They want everyone to
get off. They crave satisfaction. Maybe I’d better change the
ending.” I was tempted to transform the tale into a more familiar
model, to hew more closely to the unspoken rules.
All at once, I realized I was
subverting my own creativity in order to be “safe”. I decided to
stick with my original concept. Of course, I don’t need to worry
about whether this story will be accepted, since I know the editor
well. The experience made me realize, though, how often I do choose
the well-trodden path, opting for sales and money as opposed to
originality.
I’m fascinated by the idea of purely
psychological dominance in D/s. I have another story concept stewing
at the back of my mind, a BDSM novel in which the master is a
quadriplegic. He cannot directly exert any power over the submissive.
Instead, he relies on surrogates and on the sub’s willingness to
surrender and obey. In particular, I have a scene in mind where he
completely immobilizes the sub so that she’ll have some understanding
of his personal experience.
This story premise breaks most of the
genre rules. Still, because this scenario intrigues me personally, I
suspect that I could make the tale erotic. However, I’ll probably
never write it, because I’m convinced that no publisher would accept
it (and I don’t have the time or energy to take the self-publishing
route). I’m basically holding back from taking the risks that might
produce something of serious literary merit.
How many of us are falling into the
same trap?
On the other hand, the most exquisite
prose, the most amazing literary insights, mean nothing if they’re
unread. If our fantastically creative erotic books never see the
light of day, we will accomplish nothing.
I continue to ponder this conundrum,
trying to decide if there’s a way to create outstanding erotic
fiction that takes risks and still gets read.
Excellent! I couldn't agree with this more- I am certainly guilty of having more literary ideas, but not having the guts to write them. I mean, I write erotica- who would take me seriously?
If only people could see that I (and so many of my fellows)actually write beginning to end stories that happen to include a lot of sex, and not just sex for the sake of it.
Having said that- I am about to take a writing risk- I am not brave enough to say what that will be though- but if I even hint at it here, maybe I won't chicken out!!
Great post- Kay Jaybee x
Fantastic post, Lisabeth!
You touch on the very thorny topic of reader expectations. This is brave and controversial territory. But I think that it is essential to broach it if we are to have a thriving, growing and fertile genre.
The last 20 years have seen literature of all kinds commoditized to the point where some kinds of fiction are discussed by readers in the same way as they would discuss a box of washing powder. They feel 'ripped off' when they don't get what they expect. The days of 'the adventure of reading' are pretty well over. Instead, you get readers debating whether the 2.99 they just spent on their last erotic romance was 'worth it' or not.
It has been the commercialization of all parts of our lives that has led to this state of affairs. It is the publishing world's determination to play the same trick over and over again for a guaranteed return (how many erotica books released in the past 6 months have been marketed with the FSOG descriptor?).
It behooves us as writers to resist the lure of delivering predictable work in order to slowly but surely acclimatize readers to a broader scope of fictional possibilities.
Because otherwise, it's going to devolve into a case of chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner all day everyday.
I hope that my story for In Vein achieves that… the main character gets a "happy" ending, but it's not the kind of happy she wants…
I agree entirely, but with one additional opinion. I do think that there are many readers who find intense, extended sexual tension even more "worth it" than orgasms (in fiction, at least.) Wpmen may be more prone than men to appreciate this aspect, but maybe not.
I'm in exactly the same place, Lisabet. I know I have a good chance of being published if I follow my usual path. I always try to insert something I care about and that is not cliche in every story, but I'm also so familiar with the expectations, they're second nature. I have been criticized for making people think when they just want to lie back and enjoy, but the next project I'd like to do would go even farther. Your post is very inspiring, because it adds a more convincing voice to my own rather timid desires. Oh, and I do hope you write your quadriplegic story! I truly believe readers are hungry for something different, even while we all cling to the familiar.
Most if not all of the erotica I've written in the last say two years has not been appropriate for the market as they are now. Over the years I find that I'm less interested in writing what's simply sexy and I need more.
I don't consciously break the rules but, what turns me on and the stories I want to tell are not nice/expected or pretty. For me the expectations of what is supposed to be erotic has somewhat driven me out of the genre as a whole for the most part.
A lot of what the market is serving up doesn't turn me on and I don't want to read or write it. I was really conflicted about this for about five minutes and then I started writing again.
I've taken the attitude of keeping them handy for when (if) the market turns or the edgier bloodier markets open back up.
In the end I don't try to write what'll sell anymore because I know that for my writing that isn't really feasible and it wouldn't be good.
I think we're back to the genre definition argument again. Porn is sold under the erotica label. Your unspoken expectations are the current genre definition, as well as the definition of Gang Bang Slut XXI. I think literary erotica has to be recognized as a subgenre if not a separate genre in order to be remotely marketable. I suspect there's an audience there, but they have trouble wading through the non-literary stuff to find it.
I happen to like writing stories that break the rules. Heck, I doubted whether my story in this month's ERWA ("The Fix") even counted as erotica because there's no consummation or sex act at all. RG and some others tell me it is, though. 😉
But making money is why I'm on the edge of splitting my work into two pen names. This one can write the stories where explicit sex is necessary, but not the point. The other will write the stroke stories. Then maybe when the 'literary erotica subgenre' comes into existence, Big Ed can be part of it.
Thanks to all for your excellent comments!
@ Kay – I'm looking forward to seeing what happens when take that risk.
I don't categorize my ideas as "literary" versus "non-literary". However, I do find myself far too influenced by the question of what might sell.
@ RG – Commoditization – that's exactly the right word for it. I think the commercial success of ebooks has encouraged this trend. I hate to say this (especially since so much of my own work is now available only in electronic form) but ebooks have a "use them up and throw them away quality". They're like potato chips, for snacking but not really satisfying.
At the same time, ebooks have liberated authors from the tyranny of just a few powerful publishing companies.
@ Nobilis – Don't worry! Your In Vein story is easily the weirdest I've received! (I love it.)
@ Sacchi – I think you're right about the tension, but will these readers be satisfied if the characters are not?
@ Donna – It's a conundrum. On the one hand I have to believe that being able to target one's work to a particular market is the mark of a skilled professional. On the other hand, when does marketability begin to suppress originality.
Thanks for the encouragement regarding my quadriplegic story. I'm actually chicken to do that story for another reason. I've been thinking about it purely from an erotic perspective. However, when I broached this on the ERWA Writers list, people focused on the notion of writing a character with disabilities who is still a sexual being. This actually wasn't my take on the story at all, but now I realize that if I were to portray my character without considering this aspect, I'd be considered insensitive (AND politically incorrect).
@ nudemuse – " what turns me on and the stories I want to tell are not nice/expected or pretty." I can identify. It's really too bad that Freaky Fountain closed its doors. On the other hand, their lack of success selling edgy, dark, incredibly original but not necessarily happy erotic fiction just reinforces my point.
@ Ed – I'm not sure that I agree with you. I don't think anyone would label (for example) Rachel Kramer Bussel's collections as porn. There's a big emphasis on character and to some extent plot. However, just try to sell her a story without a happy ending…
And as for me, I don't want to be a Jekyll/Hyde author. I have enough trouble managing one alternative identity.
This is near and dear to my heart, Lisabet. I started in erotica with a story where the protag gets his rocks off and loses his car to a thief, and another where the protag gets his rocks off and loses his life! But, to get into print anthologies, I had to temper my tone. My first three submissions to print antho calls were roundly rejected, so I learned.
I recently have come back around to writing just for my own vision. But, along the way, I have managed to slip some less-than-HEA stories into collections. "Ownership," in RKB's Peep Show, ends with a guy lying on top of his hard on in his Army bed, having never reached orgasm during the story.
I don't consider myself to fall into the literary realm, nor the romantic, I just write what I write. Naively, I started out thinking that it would fall into erotica, and to a degree, it has. But in the end, it seems erotica is closer to erotic romance.
I'm glad to be back writing to my own vision, though I don't know how many stories will be making it into tables of contents. Maybe that will make getting in all the sweeter, like "Ownership" was.
Anyway, I don't suppose I made a point with this comment, but I do like taking chances, and I did enjoy and relate to your post.
Oh, and I'd love to read your quadriplegic D/s story also. Sounds absolutely intriguing, and I know it would be amazing. Just write it and send it to some of your friends.
We promise not to judge. 🙂
Craig
I haven't written much by way of erotica and am not trying to establish a career (or make a living) of it, but I've always approached writing erotic stories the same way I've approached any other story – everything has to serve the story. And perhaps we linger a bit overlong on the sex, but the sex still needs to serve the story, not the other way around.
I worried at one point about whether to bother submitting a story, asking my first reader, "Do you think it has too much plot?" Which turned out to be a dumb question.
So much of what's out there story-wise is simply a generic shell upon which to serve up our smut. This isn't isolated to the erotica genre – much of SF/F is a generic shell in which to serve up MY REALLY COOL DRAGON, or MY REALLY COOL AIRSHIP, or… And there's a big heap of readers who are happy with that. Commodification happens in all genres, and many readers are satisfied. But there are also a lot of readers who hunger for more. People who aren't interested in having a guilty pleasure, but in reading a great story.
Thanks Lisabet- I am excited and yet terrified- we will see!! And you are quite right- it isn't so much literay and non-literary- it's what people will buy from us.Kay x
You know what this means. Someone should put together an anthology of dark endings.
Hello, Craig,
I'd call your fiction literary. No question about it. So keep doing what you're doing.
It's pretty terrible, however, if we have to choose between honesty to our visions and being published.
Hello, Bernie,
"too much plot" LOL. But I know what you're saying. And you're quite correct, sci fi has some of the same problems. However, the genre as a whole gets a good deal more respect than we do.
Hi, Kathleen,
Alas, this is exactly what Freaky Fountain did. They put out several incredibly good anthologies, but they didn't sell enough copies to stay in business (even though the imprint was a labor of love).
We just need to find someone fabulously rich to continue the work of Freaky Fountain. I love a dark ending now and then, and had fun with the story I submitted to Coming Together: In Vein, though it may not be chosen for that reason. Great post!
Excellent post, Lisabet.
Unfortunately, I lost a fairly long reply. Blogger seems to be acting up!
– Jean Roberta
I'll try again. It occurs to me that there are various ways to help promote erotic writing that we consider good, not just as an exchange of favours among friends.
This could help balance out the tyranny of "what sells" this month.
In the long run, risk-taking sometimes pays off amazingly, but some writers have to wait until they're dead to acquire a cult following. 🙁
But please write what's in your mind, Lisabet & everyone else here. Beyond immediate word-of-mouth, rule-bending work may have a longer shelf-life than the various spinoffs of FSOG.