I’m pretty open with my family that I am a writer. I think it’s important that I tell them that so that they don’t think I am spending time locked away planning the obliteration of the universe. However, due to the fact that sex is a central theme in my stories I haven’t actually told them what I write about or even what the title of the book is called.
Because seriously, how do I tell my southern, Christian, elderly aunt that I am writing about a magical dominatrix? Pretty sure that redefines the measurements of awkward.
Now, originally I wasn’t going to go to the birthday lunch for the patriarch of my family. I am smack dab int he middle of the early stages of NaNo and I had every intention of taking advantage of quiet unimpeded moments to hash out some of my lascivious prose. But then they decided to go to a sushi bar that has an excellent all you can eat lunch menu.
Note: I can eat my weight in sushi and soba noodles.
So I went.
Being a budding author I take a little notebook with me whenever I go out in case I see or hear something that inspires an idea. After plunking down and ordering the first round of appetizers I noticed there was a really neat star pattern on the ceiling, and immediately began thinking about a night scene. I took out my little notebook and jotted down some thoughts so I wouldn’t forget the idea later.
My cousin asked what I was doing. Hesitantly (and with no small amount of stuttering) I told her. This opened the floodgate for questions. “When was my book going to be finished”, “How was I going to publish it?” and, of course, “What’s it about?”
I sat there for a moment, most of the gathered eyes upon me, and confidently warbbled.
“My intent was to write a series of stories with themes of paranormal psychology and preternatural intimacy while taking a harsh look at the social ramifications of a non-traditionally strong woman involved in the world of bondage. I really wanted to achieve a work where head space, “safe, sane, and consensual”, and aftercare were not only touched on but well depicted. I wanted to do this without shirking my ideals on feminism and the treatment of sex workers in America.”
Bam! Right? Nailed it! I was in the middle of doing my inner happy dance when I realized that a lot of my family was still staring at me.
My cousin did this sort of half chuckle snort and went, “What?”
“Porn,” I managed with a sigh. “I write magical bondage porn.”
And that’s the story of how I came out as an erotic author to my entire family.