May 20, 2015

Turn on the light...

My world is drenched in leather. And before you say, "Leather's not liquid. What can you possibly mean?" I say drenched. My world is steeped in pain and pleasure. Power and submission. I have written about bondage and dominance, sadism and masochism, giving up and giving in, since I didn't know what I was writing about. A time when I didn't have the words to explain, I only owned the urges.

I'm not playing around here. I'm not dabbling. This isn't a game to me.

As a writer of erotica, I've been shunned. I've been insulted. Once upon a time, a movie producer took a meeting with me in L.A. He'd read an early BDSM novel of mine, and he tracked me down through my publisher only to tell me that he thought I was a slut. That he thought what I wrote was depraved.

And then he asked me out.

Now that kink is everywhere—now that you can go into almost any store and see the books on the shelves—is it better? Is it brighter? Are we all out in the open now?


Sure there are drawbacks. I think there's a sanitation that can occur when something goes mainstream. There's a squeak to the clean that rings false to me.

But oh, there is something so sublime about being out in the light. Only a handful of years ago, an L.A. Times writer could off-handedly insult bondage-spiked book writers everywhere.

Only a handcuff of years ago, a "friend" could call me up and say she wasn't surprised I had a book deal, but she was shocked...

Only a blindfold of years ago, writers of other genres (mainstream genres) could motion to the basement where we erotica losers could congregate. No shelf space for you here.

That's all changed. You can buy smut at the supermarket now. Seriously. You can purchase erotic titles in multiple languages at big box stores.

In the past, I might have said I didn't want my kink out in the bright buzzing fluorescent light. I wanted my kink in the dark. I wanted to be in the back alley. I chose this route for a reason. I had other opportunities as a writer. I didn't have to select the one in which people felt perfectly comfortable calling me a "slut" to my face.

I was fine in the back row, in the parking lot, in the alleyway.

But now I'm awash in pleasure. Truly. Kink is king—you can't hide from it. You can't turn your head without being slapped.

And you know what? Fucking can be so much more fun when you do it with the lights on.



Bryce Calderwood said...

Hear, hear! I love the way you told this.

baddoggerel said...

Kink may be everywhere, but good kink is still the domain of only a very few. You've elevated kink into a reddened, welted art form.