I sometimes wonder just how much responsibility to the world at large us writers have. I did a post recently concerning triggers and got much interesting feedback about that. A trigger can be anything, a taste, a touch, a scent, words read in a book. The general consensus seemed to be that it was the readers’ responsibility to watch for those things that might trigger an untoward response or memory.
As writers, we should write about whatever we want to. There should be no censorship. To rate books like movies seems ridiculous; G, PG, R, X. And who, or what organization, would govern that?
I recall a friend bringing a paperback book to junior high school. It was Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar”. There was a passage in that book where she describes her own breast development and compares them to apricots and cantaloupes. We sat in the library and giggled over that.
With the sexual revolution of the sixties, blatant sex found its way into everything, from TV ads to movies to literature. Not that it had not been there already…it just wasn’t so obvious. Parents protected children from it. Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez were the first prime-time couple to share a bed on national TV…and they were married in real life and on TV.
The romance genre has always been the ladies’ go-to genre for steamy passion…and sexual tensions. Erotica takes that a step further. With those two, you know what you are going to get going in. Crime novels, sci-fi, fantasy, and many other genres have their protagonists engaged in sexual behaviors, a lusty affair, a rendezvous, but most of these are “love” related. Or, at the very least, lust related.
We all know what lust feels like. We probably had our first twinges in puberty. We were taught to subdue those feelings. We had social mores and morals. There were expectations on our behaviors and we conformed.
There are distinguished groups; however, who, under the freedoms grated us in this country, practice another sexual culture. I’m not talking about religious groups who use the church to practice bigamy; I’m talking about the polyamorous and the swingers. Polyamorous possessing the capacity to love more than one, and swingers who view sexual behavior in purely recreational terms.
Recreational sex. Have you ever thought about sex in those terms?
Men have always been rewarded by other men with a slap on the back for putting another notch in their belt, but women are often called sluts and other derogatory terms for openly enjoying sex with more than one person. Maybe it has to do with maternalism. Nobody wants to THINK of their mom as enjoying sex, and Mom and Dad together, hell no!
Do I have a responsibility as a writer to guide young people toward “acceptable “and “appropriate” sexual behaviors? Both teens and young adults can potentially read my writing. Can I shatter illusions? Can I destroy the innocence of young love?
In my crime novel, a couple of swinger clubs appear as settings. These aren’t private homes but public meeting places for strangers to become more than friends…no strings attached, no commitments.
The settings provide some amusement and are necessary to the plot. Yet, I have doubt.
Speaking of doubt, Doubt the Raven got out of hand and pecked up the left side of C.S. Boyack’s brain this morning over at Entertaining Stories. Lisa, the Robot , and Craig packed him up and shipped him off to Florida. He’ll be arriving soon…about the time the rocket scientist gets deep into Naked Alliances.
You’ll hear more about Doubt later. I’m sure.
In the meanwhile, pick up a copy of one of C.S. Boyack’s books and enjoy. I don’t think he has any sex in these, but they do look entertaining.
Lisa Burton is a new kind of robot. Built in the concept lab, she will be dismantled at the end of the experiment.
Lisa is a bit naive when she starts her new life, but soon learns to fit into modern society.
She gets assigned to the Hudson Police Department to study how she reacts to pressure, stress, and the everyday world. Hudson PD assigns her to a homicide case to catch the Escort Executioner.
When the escorts start showing up dismembered, she decides not to conclude her own experiment. She takes off on her own adventure to turn the tables on her creators.
Ethan and Coop are sent to the construction zone along the Panama Canal. They have some experience with strange phenomenon, but nothing prepared them for this.
They are faced with civil war, Carlist pretenders to the thrones of France and Spain, an invading Spanish army, and another from Hell itself. They’ll be lucky to survive, let alone take care of anything while they’re down there.
This story is based upon the construction of the canal, Panamanian independence, international cooperation, and a few celebrity cameos. Even the magic takes on an international flavor.
Ghosts and Voodoo are one thing, but they have no idea what waits along the isthmus.