I found this article by Jennifer Armstrong about sex writing and women, and I started wondering about women’s liberation. At one time, I used to look at our exercised right to write about sex as a benefit of the liberation, but Ms. Armstrong’s article made me stop and wonder–is sex writing just another way in which women are objectified, controlled and put to work exactly where men want them? Is it some kind of successful reverse psychology that has men in back rooms somewhere laughing at us?
Male sex writers might look at this and say, “No, of course not.” But as far as I’m concerned, no man will ever understand the experience of being a woman. To be constantly assessed as “doable” or not, to be continuously objectified, to be absurdly protected by political correctness, to be seen as walking pussy first and productive human last–trying to be seen as a human rather than a chick is like clawing your way up from quicksand over and over…and over.
So what does that mean for female sex writers? Are we playing right into the collective male hands? Are we rebelling against the very thing that wants us to do what we do? Or, are we redefining the role of our gender and taking control?
Being a sex writer causes an interesting problem between the sheets–it’s very easy to lose romance and spontaneity when you are thinking about work. In the earlier days of my career, when I was in the middle of writing something and having trouble working out the steamier scenes, my sex with Hal would suffer. You see, I would start boiling all of our sex down to research instead of an intense, loving encounter.
I never really saw this as a problem until Hal pointed it out to me. We were trying out anal beads (forgive me if this sounds “old school” to you fresh-faced youngsters, but this was the early seventies and we were quite proud of our cutting edge sexuality at the time) and I was really focused on how they could work in some erotica I was developing. I was just short of taking notes in bed when Hal suddenly said, “You’re not here.” “I most certainly am here” I argued, “and I have beads in my ass to prove it.” He explained that I was distant, and that it wasn’t fun for him when he knew I was focused on the sex and the pleasure in an almost clinical way.
Since then, I have adopted some habits that help distance me from my work:
1. Take a walk. After working, I generally take a walk and force myself to think about non-sex related things like birds, trees, children playing ball, etc. Don’t expect the walk to take sex off your mind, this is something you have to make an effort to do.
2. Practice tunnel vision. If you find your mind straying into research mode while you have sex, focus yourself on the “now.” I will often say in my mind what Hal or I are doing during sex and how it makes me feel to get myself back and focused into the act itself.
3. Set specific guidelines for research sex. Whether you need to try out a new toy, lube, or position, there will come a time when you simply must have sex for research purposes. This sex should be separate from the personal sex you have with your partner. For Hal and I, we actually do this during business hours which makes our workplace the best one in America.
I found this article by Jennifer Armstrong about sex writing and women, and I started wondering about women’s liberation. At one time, I used to look at our exercised right to write about sex as a benefit of the liberation, but Ms. Armstrong’s article made me stop and wonder–is sex writing just another way in which women are objectified, controlled and put to work exactly where men want them? Is it some kind of successful reverse psychology that has men in back rooms somewhere laughing at us?
Being a sex writer causes an interesting problem between the sheets–it’s very easy to lose romance and spontaneity when you are thinking about work. In the earlier days of my career, when I was in the middle of writing something and having trouble working out the steamier scenes, my sex with Hal would suffer. You see, I would start boiling all of our sex down to research instead of an intense, loving encounter.
