Ramblings of a Romance Writer

Sex & Books



In the two years that I have officially proclaimed myself as a “romance writer,” I have come across two things:

  1. Women like reading about sex.
  2. Men don’t like their women reading about sex.

The Hypocrisy: These same men have all been to a strip club and/or have watched porn.

“No,” you say. “This is the 21st century. We’ve gone through two sexual revolutions.” And thanks to the famous (or famously infamous) E.L. James and her Fifty Shades, we are embarking on our third.

The heart of all romance stories is not romance, but love. When you peel back the layers to the story – the sex, the friendships, the career – the foundation is Boy meets Girl … or Boy meets Boy or Girl meets Girl, because homosexuality is mainstream … hence, the third sexual revolution … deal with it. Maybe the main characters hate each other. Maybe it’s love at first sight. But the main focus is to have the reader’s heart melt at the end. The road taken to get there, though, is up to the author.

The modern romance novel took form in the early 1970’s. Women for the next couple of decades would glance around while in the grocery store and sneakily toss one of the mass market paperbacks into their carts and stroll away to buy milk or frozen peas. Enter the invention of the eReader. With a simple click of a button, you have thousands upon thousands of books at your fingertips, especially Romance, which is the highest selling genre. My first edition Nook has so many Harlequin Blaze Bundles, I’d almost be embarrassed … but I’m not, because I’m a romance writer, and one had to learn from somewhere. It wasn’t until I read the Fifty Shades series – in the span of a three day weekend – that I realized that I could quite possibly write this.


This: Detailed sex, not erotic romance.

Someone once said that they enjoyed my story … until a cock literally slapped them in the face. Meaning, the flow of the sex scene seemed perfect enough without having to use various names for male and female genitalia. This was me just coming off of Fifty Shades. Fifty Shades is what women wanted. … Not true. We want love.

But why is it still frowned upon to read a love story that revolves around orgasmic word sex?

This is the part that some men cannot comprehend. When women read these types of books, it has the same effect as what men have from watching porn.

Yes … women get horny, guys. You should be glad.

So, why is this a problem?

The answer is that it’s not reading the sex … it’s because it’s fictional. Non-fictional men cannot compete in the sack with fictional men. And I hate to point it out to ya, fellas, but ya ain’t ever going to.

By the time men evolve into a non-fictional form of Mr. Grey (or maybe even a Mr. Darcy), women will have moved on to something else more mind-blowing. Instead of getting all huffy and licking your ego wounds, just smile and reap the benefits. It’s not that hard to understand.

So … men, stop cowering in the corner like a scorned monkey and buy your women these books. Embrace the fact that we have gone through two sexual revolutions and third one is taking place in the form of books. If you’re not reaping the benefits of this, then you’re doing something else wrong. Maybe wear a cowboy hat. Chicks dig that stuff.

Women, men are still not conforming, and that’s okay. That is why we can have polygamist relationships with lots of fictional men. Taking a different man to bed every night and you don’t have to fold his underwear in the morning? Sounds like a win-win situation to me.

So, if your man ever demands to know why you “read so much smut?” Smile and say, “If I read current events or the politics of the day, then I would be so much smarter than you,” as you smile bigger because you know you already are.

WF - love bug story

If you’re in the mood for some “classy, not raunchy” sex, head over to Wattpad, where you can find my first story, Watching Fireflies, for a limited time. The edited and expanded version is to be published at some point in time. The love bugs are all crossing their fingers while we wait.


Until next time, Happy Reading!


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