Kerri Sackville’s blog post last week, Nadia writes erotic fiction, got me thinking. How many secret erotic writers are out there? Is every soccer mum turning out purple prose? The protagonist in my, second novel, Terry, is a shy, reclusive erotic fiction writer. And, well, I’ve done my share too.
Erotic writing is one of those things that can go very badly wrong in so many ways. It can also be a hoot. I had a lot of fun making Terry’s heart spin ‘like the wheels on her ergonomic chair’ as she made her way through love ‘like a salmon swimming upstream through grizzly bear infested waters.’
Advice on how to write about sex ranges from; ‘don’t mention the ‘p’ or ‘v’ words to ‘don’t use euphemisms’. It’s all very confusing. Perhaps the best advice I have heard is ‘pretend that your parents are dead and then write it as you would anything else.’
Some of the best erotic fiction is also very funny. The opening scene in Linda Jaivan’s outrageous Eat Me is one of my all time favourites. Does anyone remember; ‘Eat me, you filthy spud’?
Are there any other erotic writers out there who would like to out themselves at this point? What are some of your great moments in literary erotica?
And next week, I will definitely write about coffee with Veny Armanno (which is totally unconnected to the topic of this post).