Saturday, May 10, 2008

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.