So over the weekend I gathered my friends, we sat around a big roaring fire, the BBQ was sizzling steaks, beer and wine flowed as conversations were built like psychedelic construction workers building a new born city while on acid as chill music played behind us…. at least in my head anyway… given I’m quite a solitary creature I only have one close friend that comes over maybe once a month so he was it, but there was beer and good conversation… the first description just sounded better for aesthetics sake for the most part.
Still… our conversations as they do went from movies, to movie quotes (much to my girlfriends distain) over to books, down into writing, back to movies, and afore mentioned quoting thereof then back down the bunny hole of writing.
Our current financial state is, if there were a scale to go by would be “holy shit we are broke!!!” but we are still managing to get through day by day (don’t really have much choice when you have kids) so the conversation turned to Erotica writing, it was pointed out that I should delve into the world of what many term “Smut Writing” to help pay the bills.
I have since done some research and it turns out there is quite a lot of money to be made in that section of the writing world… but would that stain your name for any future productivity in what most coin “The Real Writing World” as many in forums have pointed out you obviously don’t use your real name, but still in todays day and age, it’s not very hard to link people via a well buried email account for example, but part of the conversation turned to the obvious question “What the hell does it matter if anyone did link you?”
Are we as a society far enough in our mental frame of mind to accept a writer that does serious work be it non fiction or sci/fi even as I do, dark realist poetry and short stories. Can that line be drawn and as the general public goes “Well I like his poetry, but I think I’ll stay away from his erotica… it’s just not for me.” as my girlfriend pointed out, it’s writing, and I love to write, so does the subject matter really matter at the end of the day?
In one forum in particular there were several men that said they write and sell erotica books, it’s not what they want to do for the rest of their lives but as mentioned it does pay the bills enough that they can continue on with bashing out their long term books.
One thing I’ve learned this past year after I walked away from my job was getting another one… no matter how talented in that field you are… it’s damn near impossible to even get to the interview stage, even my better half is experiencing the same thing, and she’s been a web builder damn near since the Internet became a household commodity, we jokingly gave our age as the reasons for pretty much being ignored by every company we applied to, but it’s more than that, I’ve spoken to quite a few people I know that are staying in shitty jobs, and are beyond miserable because it’s just too hard to get a new one.
So the thought of writing smut has become a bit more appealing to me… but can I do it? I don’t write sex scenes, not even ones remotely sexual in nature, my stories are always centered around action or destruction, not calm moments to rip each others clothes off, so is it one of those things that people are just naturally talented to do? I’m a bit of an Angel Demon obsessive… not that weird over the top obsessive mind you, the whole thought process into A & D theology is very intriguing to me, the “who made these names and abilities up anyway?” type of thing given I’ve seen all of these A – Z of A & D books you see in the stores today, hell I even have a few on my bookshelf… yet none of them are in The Bible, there’s only a casual mention of a few Angels and Demons in it… so how did it come to be… better yet who gave it that rubber stamp of approval?
I’m venturing down a different bunny hole, sorry, but that’s what I mean, it’s a thing I love, writing erotica…. I’m not so sure, the sex industry has always been with us since man first learned he can get an erection, from that point on he just needed a place to constantly stick it, and we all know sex sells… and sells damn well, but it still retains that residue of “eeew” if you know what I mean, that gross feeling if you’ve been in it too long, you start to feel a little tainted by it…. as weird as it sounds it’s like watching a really long movie, being totally engrossed by the visuals, and the story then Bam!! it’s over and reality slips back in, it’s like stepping out of a hot bath into a freezing bathroom.
I guess it boils down to the individual, can you write 50K words full of sex in half a week, throw it up on Amazon or whatever place lets you sell it, and watch as maybe money starts to come in, or just keep struggling day by day while juggling bills, life and writing The Next Greatest Book in the World while hoping a decent paying job finally lands in your lap… or even just a bloody interview.
I’m not sorry for my current situation to be honest, while we had money it was great, yet I nervously watched the bank account everyday as it got lower and lower, but a strange wave of relief flowed over me the day I looked and realized I didn’t need to keep looking anymore as we were stone cold broke, like once reality slapped you upside the head with a rolled up newspaper you were finally able to just get on with it truth be told. I’ve written more since then that I have the previous 6 months, I think it might be that weird writer angst thing, someone told me after asking how my poetry was going and I had informed them that it wasn’t, that maybe I just needed to suffer for awhile… and I think they were kind of right, when I’m comfortable be it financially or romantically I didn’t really delve deep into the fabric of humanity, I just enjoyed myself in my comfortable bubble, now I’m pretty much well deep into looking at life from my old slightly askew angles…. and it’s nice to be back home.
Still….. as the title stated, where do you draw the line when you’re doing that thing you love? is it a line you yourself drag through the sand, or one that the general public has done so already?… and better yet, so long as you are fine with it… who the fuck cares what other people think at the end of the day, you are the one that has to live with it, not them… still… that “ewww” feeling keeps creeping back into the corners of my mind.
God knows why it does, people no matter what level of life you live on are perverts in one way or another, I sat on the bus with a very over weight lady who was practically orgasming over 50 shades of utter shit, and that was in public… so you know that kind of thing is , and always has been in high demand, and it seems to be getting more demanding with every new “Best Seller” of BDSM with stupid rich white guys that just can’t form proper emotional relationships….ugh…
Before you judge me, yes I have read sections of 50 shades of drivel, and the writing to me is utter crap… but women are loving it…. so who am I to judge? E. L. James is probably lighting up Cuban cigars with £50 notes and laughing her arse off on her throne of cash while I sit here deciding which bill is more important to pay this month…
Peace.
CD