What's Sex Got To Do With It?

The tempestuous debate continues. When is too much sex, well, too much? In the romance game, this question has turned into a downright conflagration. RWR - the monthly publication for members (all paid up members, I might add, regardless of religious persuasion, political party, or sexual appetite!) a few months past published a number of letters blasting the authors of erotic romance and their work. The usual four letter words - smut, porn and their 5 letter kissin' cousins, filth and trash - were all bandied about with great fervor and indignation. The vitriol that was spewed was almost frightening in its ferocity. After all, here we all are, members of a community that is fairly universally considered to be trashy at best. Romance is laughed at, poked fun of, and used as the butt of numerous jokes. "Trashy summer reading" is a frequent headline at this time to year to, I kid you not, promote the books most likely to be bestsellers at the bookstore in the lazy, hazy days of summer. As though we all rush to the classics section at B&N come fall. Not.

An immediate hue and cry among the writers of the steamier sort of happily-ever-after romantic tale was raised. And ignored. The RWR declined to publish counter-offensives until the dialogue expanded across blogs, MySpace pages and Yahoo Group email loops. Finally, in a recent issue, a number of erudite and well-spoken, even-tempered responses from the members of the erotic romance community were published. In general they asked for equal consideration as genre romance authors. They reminded everyone that we, too, are members of a community that should band together to make use of our strength in numbers, rather than be belittling and divisive. And some of them expressed their own anger at being labeled writers of smut and porn. Sadly,the very next issue of RWR ran more condemnatory responses. Apparently the concept of live and let live is far from alive and well in the arena of romance writing.

Apparently, a certain group of authors feels that only the novels they choose to write and read, should be published at all, let alone reviewed or discussed in their publication. They bemoan the dearth of "their kind" of romances (which I interpret to be the sweet and genteel sort where anything of a romantic nature that escalates beyond a chaste kiss happens behind closed doors - at the very worst - or not at all, pending nuptials). Of course, since I, in my unending search for the steamiest, naughtiest romance novels I can find must continually paw through the novels such as those that make me yawn, I fail to see the validity of their statement.

Instead, what I see is a narrow-minded, censurious group of people who fail to see that freedom of speech means for everyone, regardless of what they choose to read. Just as I have no desire to watch reality TV, I would not demand that the shows not be produced. Exactly as I am disgusted by the unending news stories of degradation, exploitation, and immoral behavior (by which I mean the folks who brought us Enron, Blackwater, the mortgage scandal and so forth), yet I would refuse to demand their removal in favor of sweet, pleasant, pablum-esque reports. I don't give a fig for Paris Hilton or TomKat but don't boycott the Star and the Enquirer. I have a very bad taste in my mouth when listening to mysogynistic rap music. But don't call radio stations demanding they be banned from the radio.

Why is it, that as members of a group that is fighting for respect and an acknolwedgement that the overall genre of romance accounts for nearly half of all mass market sales, we cannot all acknowledge that, just as I have no intention of ever picking up an inspirational romance or a Christian romance, I will fight to the death the right of the women who create these stories to do just that, that I have the right to write the hottest, most graphic romances I choose. And not only to write them, but to sell them, advertise them, and talk about them.

I expect no less. If you refuse to acknoweldge my right to the same respect and the same opportunities to sell, market and promote, then you, my dear, are a hypocrite.

And by the way, I pay my dues to RWA just the same as you do. Equal time is my right as a member.

And are you going to replace the revenue that the RWR loses when they cease to accept advertising for all the smutty books you loathe? You know, Ellora's Cave, Berkely Heat, Avon Red, Loose ID, Liquid silver, NAL, Black Lace, Kensington Aphrodesia? I would hazard a guess - NOT.

Live and Let Live, girlfriend. Or be prepared to have your own genre excoriated next when someone, somewhere decides your books are, gulp, boring.

A Brainiac And Proud of It!

I witnessed a silly web debate today. Name calling, vitriol. That sort of thing. The problem was, the instigator was an idiot. Wrong in most every way and she should have kept quiet because in the end not only was her ignorance revealed, but she was shouted down by the folks who rallied behind the victim of her unpleasant attack.

I am a know-it-all. It's true. But as much as I hate it, I do, on occasion, find myself in the humbling position of having to eat crow and admit I was wr-wr-wr-wr-wrong. (Hateful word!).

And there are things I am woefully ignorant of. Economics. Past perfect tense. Calculus. 401 Ks. On the other hand, for someone who does not work in an industry that requires me to continue to learn, I do so with relish.

In recent days I have purchased books on etymology, mythology, the impact of the death rate during the Civil War on the evolution of the US, kinky sexual practices (Right, it is a dirty job, but someone has to do it!), Vincent Bugliosi's book on the entire canon of Kennedy assassination conspiracy theories, a biography of Shakespeare, and numerous books on World War II. And I stopped because my credit card balance was keeping me up nights.

I can't stop wondering about stuff. Curiosity is everpresent in my life. Every time I come across a question, I have to find the answer. If I read or hear about something I don't know about, I have to research it. And when I hear new things, and have learned something I didn't know, I consider my day a rousing success.

For example. Today I learned: If a snake bites you, it is "venomous". If you bite the snake, it is "poisonous". How cool is that?

As a romance writer, particularly one with an interest in history, I am constantly awed by how much there is to learn. Every question that is launched on a writer's site gets myriad answers. Many wrong. Some only partially correct. And there are always those that are filled with knowlege and learning and years of interest in the study of the subject at hand.

While there are arguments, and debates, and even the odd, huffy email exchange, what makes the experiences so amazing are the fact that these large groups of people are all interested in learning. Whether it is about the sexual habits of the Regency gentleman, or the mode of transportation in 1880 US, or the medieval clothing of a child, or a discussion of the food of the Vikings, the discussions are wild, wooly, fascinating and, in the end, I always learn something.

So if you are not interested in learning about parthenogenisis. If the history of the language of flowers in Victorian England bores you. If a study of the Manhattan Project and the development of the atom bomb is a yawn. If discovering the various uses of herbs is tedious to you. Farewell. Begone from my blog.

But if you go to bed glum that you have not had your quota of intelligent discussion. If you are bereft at not having mastered a new fact today. If you yearn to get just another factoid into your brain before you slumber...

Then hang around. I love smart people. And people who know that they will never be smart enough.

Let's hear it for the brainiacs. We are SO cool!