Indie Thoughts by Aneesa Price
If a book contains sex scenes does it make
it erotica?
To me, the answer is no.
I write romance and recently, also erotica.
With my first book I purposefully kept any descriptions of sex scenes mostly
suggestive, however, with my second book, the sex scenes were more explicitly
described. I did not describe body parts and the acts in detail. I did,
however, describe the emotions and sensations in tantalizing depth and sex was
a major initiator for many events in the book.
My first novel, Finding Promise, was not
labeled as erotic. It was labeled as I meant it to be - a sweet, small town
contemporary romance for adults. My intention with the second book, Coffin
Girls, was not to be erotic either - it was to provide a realistic description
of what occurs within adult romance, which in my book (both literally and
figuratively speaking) means a description of sex. I purposefully curbed the
level of detail provided. However, I was surprised (neither pleasantly nor
unpleasantly) when I received feedback that the book was in fact erotic. This
confounded me.
I’m a firm believer that whatever the
reader feels is their reality and thus true for them and so I accepted that to
some, the book may seem to be erotic. This acceptance was shaken when most of
the feedback I received was that Coffin Girls definitely fit into the erotic
paranormal romance category. I then sat back and thought - very long, extremely
hard (no pun intended *grin*).
What I was struggling with is that I had
indeed read erotic literature long before the hype around “Fifty Shades of
Grey” arose and as early back as when I was a university student. Back then I
devoured the colorful descriptions writers such as Anais Nin and Henry Miller
gave to carnal endeavors. To me, that was erotic. These classically acclaimed
writers, to my mind, celebrated sex through the mastery of their words.
At this point, it may shed clarity to share
my philosophy on sex in literature and other entertainment media. To me, sex is
a natural activity that occurs between consenting adults and a very important
one. As a romance advocate I cannot imagine a happily ever after for a couple
who do not enjoy sleeping together. This is one of the many reasons I do not
enjoy YA (Young Adult) reads. They seem to leave something to be desired due to
the nature of the genre - like the proverbial ‘coffee without caffeine’.
I was baffled. Here I thought I was being
very conservative with Coffin Girls and yet, the general consensus seemed to
label it as “erotic with a bit of fang”. I then embarked on a journey to try
and figure out if it indeed was erotic and if my definition of erotic was
accurate or more akin to literary porn.
A series of events occurred. I read and
reviewed a few newly released indie books labeled as erotic. I found that they
weren’t actually erotic in my book and that Coffin Girls was indeed more
explicit than they were. As I was outnumbered, I had to concede defeat. Next, I
read explicit erotic short stories and here found that they made Coffin Girls
look like a Disney production, which was more aligned to my original thinking.
So, still in a state of confusion, I pulled out the old erotic classics and
re-read them and reeled back in shock. They weren’t explicit in nature but what
they were, were terribly illegal. A strong word but I cannot find any other to
describe the grotesque acts I re-read in those books. Shocked and disappointed
in writers I had previously looked up to, I then decided to read their
journals. And that clinched it for me.
What I found in reading Anais Nin’s journal
in particular was that she hated what she wrote. The erotic works she created were commissioned
by a benefactor that had no desire to read ‘poetry’. They wanted cold, hard,
despicable acts of sex with an undercurrent of darkness and sometimes violence.
Anais (also the name of the main character in Coffin Girls - and yes, I named
her after the famous writer) experienced an enormous amount of dissonance but
had been compelled to write those stories because she needed to earn money.
She, in short, felt as though she was prostituting her art.
This was a revelation for me and it was is
what led me to realize that what separates erotica, as a masterful literary
art-form from literary porn is the story and the conscience within the work. If
a book contains sex that discriminates and violates unless it is part of a
story then it is porn. However, if sex is part of the story, adds richness and
depth to the story and is not the story in itself, then, it is erotica. Erotica
does not exploit its characters, instead the act of sex provides insight into
how they think, feel and behave. It is not an attempt to fulfill a reader’s
more promiscuous desires but to provide the reader with a full experience of
the character’s hearts and minds. Erotica is then to me, a further development
of adult romance. Sex is not implied, it is celebrated along with the other
emotions and behaviors that characters possess.
And so I’ve discovered that I do indeed write erotica because my
definition of it has matured.
