Hello. My name is Emily Dubberley and I write masturbation material, also described as porn, smut or, if you're or trying to make it sound literary or justify a five-book-a-week reading habit without sounding like a perpetual wanker, erotica. If you're reading my blog, there's a reasonable chance you already know this so why am I telling you? Because today, I stumbled across this article about the new erotica anthology, In Bed With... and it's made me cross.
Don't get me wrong. I love the idea that erotica is getting mainstream enough to be published by a major imprint. I love the fact that lots of writers who aren't known for erotica are turning their hand to one of my favourite genres. I look forward to reading the book and strongly suspect I'll give it a glowing review in Scarlet, given the talented authors involved. What I object to is the (male) journalist's attitude that writing sexually explicit material is something to be ashamed of. Richard Brooks (who's Arts Editor of The Times, no less) sets the scene in his opening paragraph.
"What are a bunch of respected authors - including Fay Weldon, Joanne Harris, Daisy Waugh, Joan Smith, Louise Doughty and Rachel Johnson, the Sunday Times columnist - doing writing pornography?"
Well, it's not as if sex is a universal subject. It's not like over 95 pecent of people - male and female - masturbate. There's no way that, of that 95 percent, some will choose reading as their erotic inspiration of choice. And obviously, no one would want to read smut by authors who are skilled in their art: Anais Nin, Pauline Reage, Henry Miller and the Marquis de Sade all go to prove that sex writing is just 'turn and churn' pulp that will be forgotten as soon as the reader has reached climax...
The article goes on to explain that everyone has used pseudonyms to protect their identity (because obviously, as a woman, admitting to having any thoughts about sex other than, 'Do I have to?' just isn't ladylike). However, this is done in a rather strange way. All the authors have their real names in big letters on the front cover, showing that they're clearly not ashamed to admit to writing smut. But once you buy the book, you don't know which story they've written as they use their 'porn names' on the actual stories. Thus, the reader needs to work out which author has written the Sapphic story, bondage story, group sex story or whatever else for themselves.
I've worked with numerous sex writers who've used pseudonyms because they're members of the PTA, have strongly religious parents who'd be upset, work for the government or would generally find writing erotica publicly to be a life liability in some way (which is also ridiculous. We should live in a society that accepts someone can write hot porn and still be a great mum; or put their more salacious thoughts on paper without it rendering them unfit for 'responsible work'. But that's a whole other rant). However, these people maintain their anonymity absolutely rather than merely obscuring their identity in a way akin to someone posing as a stripper under their real name then getting undressed behind a screen once the audience arrives.
In writing under a semi-pseudonym, the authors are admitting to having sexual thoughts and ideas but refusing to specify exactly what direction these thoughts take. While that is anyone's right, it seems a little odd. These writers are all known for fiction. Thus, if Fay Weldon wrote, say, a spanking story, it doesn't mean she necessarily wants to be put over a lover's knee: it could mean that she's just capable of putting herself in the mind of someone who does. I doubt she's been cloned either, but she managed to write convincingly enough about that. Yet there does seem to be an implicit assumption that if someone (particularly a woman) writes about sex - no matter how good a fiction writer she is - then she must be writing about her own sex life, which is a tad patronising, at best.
After his biased (if strong) introduction, Brooks proceeds to get, frankly, insulting when talking about other women who've written anonymous books about sex, such as Belle de Jour. "They were by unknowns. Here, the authors have no need to make a mark." He seems to be assuming that writing smut is the literary equivalent of a celebrity sex tape: a cheap stunt to garner publicity for a less-than-talented individual. One look at erotica sales in the UK just goes to show that this really isn't the case. Sex does sell,but it's in the format of memoirs rather than fiction; or indeed, sex manuals (thankfully for me). Conversely, he seems to be implying that porn is somehow lesser to other writing. I suggest that he reads Nicholson Baker, Alma Marceau orany of the classics mentioned above to see that it's entirely possible to have a book that is both titillating and well-written. Some people who write erotica actually understand the Mythic Structure - gosh!- and if Brooks doesn't believe me, I'll happily send him a reading list.
Last year, I was lucky enough to work with 'name' writers including Katie Fforde and Jo Rees on the Ultimate Burlesque fundraising erotica anthology, and at no point did any of them request anonymity.They were proud of their words - enough to come along to promotional events for the book - and rightly so. As such, it would surprise me if the anonymity was requested by the writers rather than the marketing department
As such, I applaud the marketing department at Little Brown. By making the authors anonymous, they've turned In Bed With... into a sexy 'whodunnit?' which is bound to result in way more column inches (and resultant sales - the book is already number one in the Amazon erotica anthology chart) than merely publishing an erotic anthology by name writers (though we did get Ultimate Burlesque to #1 in the erotica charts without any such coyness). I only hope they're similarly inspired when coming up with PR ideas for Friendly Fetish, the book I've got coming out with them in May (though I may have blown that by putting my name to the book in the first place rather than hiding behind anonymity. Or indeed, by writing this post)
In the meantime, I will proudly hold my hand up and admit to writing the following stories (along with countless others in every genre imaginable, regardless of my own penchants).
Angel
Come Again?
Fair Game
Serious Cheek
They may be to your taste. They may not. They're cetainly not suitable for under 18s. But they are all my own words, and if writing them means that I'm trying to 'make a mark' - actually, too damned right, just as I have with the 18 books I've had published. That's one of the things that being a writer of whatever genre is all about, no matter how shamefully egotistical that may be.
Right, my anger is abating after this rant. At least I can take comfort from Brooks's final line, in which he quotes Kathy Lette, one of the authors of In Bed With... as saying,“I’m calling us the cliterati.” Maybe she'll read about what being member of the cliterati is all about and, along with the other authors, demand to put her name to her porn as well as her other work. There's no reason that writing porn should be a dirty little secret, after all.
Posted by emilyd at January 14, 2009 03:20 AM