A candid discussion about consent in written sex scenes, subgenres of erotica, and why the ‘housewife reading erotica’ is a tired stereotype.
by Kristina Bustos
A few weeks ago, I sat with Ashleigh Williams in a small coffee shop in New York City’s hustling Union Square area, and we chatted about erotica. I had met Williams at a Planned Parenthood Activist Council meeting in July, where she mentioned that she reviewed erotica for a living. Totally enthralled by her occupation, I asked her to grab an iced coffee with me.
Before Williams reviewed erotica for a living, she worked for Lower Eastside Girls Club, a non-profit dedicated to improving the lives of young girls by providing mentoring, academic support and career training programs for girls who live in the Lower Eastside. She also became a full-time reviewer for “Library Journal,” a publication for librarians, after she worked part-time in their book room and volunteered to review romance and erotica audio books when she learned they needed more reviewers.
“When word got around that I didn’t detest reviewing erotica, I was asked to write a column,” Williams told me. “That was about two years ago, and I’m still going strong.”
Williams indeed shared with me her job description — “To tell the truth, it does get tedious” — but we also spoke about her favorite writers, the diversity in subgenres of erotica, what 50 Shades of Grey got wrong about BDSM culture and why she’s had to stop reading certain pieces due to the lack of consent in some sex scenes, since we all know sex is something to be enjoyed between to people that decide how to enjoy their intimacy, maybe with BDSM or even toys from an adult sex shop in australia or others.
Kristina Bustos: Before we start getting dirty (pun intended), what is erotica and what isn’t erotica?
Ashleigh Williams: [Laughs] While I can’t say I find puns erotic, they can definitely be found in erotica! Along with abundant euphemisms and double entendre. Funnily enough, I’ve never officially looked up the dictionary definition, [but] according to Merriam-Webster, erotica is defined as “works of art or literature that deal with sex and are meant to cause sexual feelings.” When I started reviewing erotica, I was told a rough technical guideline or indicator of “erotica” is when explicit sexual acts occur within the first few chapters of a work.
KB: And so when does a romance novel becomes an erotica?
AW: If the general tone of the novel is heavy on the characters’ emotions, or features a slow build-up to a relationship, that’s usually romance. I believe sex scenes also tend to be depicted [in] less graphic terms, or the scenes “fade to black” and sex is implied. When the focus is on action, so to speak, and pleasure, that’s usually erotica. Though that’s not to say erotica can’t have elements of romance; there’s also an erotic romance subgenre that, in my opinion, is the best of both worlds.
KB: I’m curious as to how you review erotica; it seems like the common theme — sex — could get tedious after a while. Can you describe your thought process when you’re reviewing erotica?
AW: To tell the truth, it can get tedious – there’s a limited amount of ways to praise “good” sex scenes, and a lot of erotica plots, at least the ones with heterosexual characters, have similar themes — girl finds bad boy, is simultaneously frightened and intrigued by said boy, but through their undeniable passion, he challenges her to open up in the bedroom, etc. But that trap also applies to book reviews in general; it’s easy to fall into clichéd phrasing when you’re assessing the quality of a novel. So I try to be specific, and to delineate exactly what sets the book apart. Sometimes it’s well-rounded, relatable characters, sometimes it’s fantastic sex scenes, sometimes it’s beautiful language. Often, I like to highlight really strong, evocative writing that portrays sex and intimacy in a way that deviates from the rest of what’s out there. Diversity in terms of represented gender, sexual orientation and sex acts is always a plus for me, too.
KB: At this point, is there anything that surprises you when you read?
AW: In terms of sex acts, I don’t think so! I like to think of myself as pretty open-minded and almost unflappable at this point. There have been some books where I’m surprised, if not downright impressed, with the pretenses used to construct an environment of constant sex —particularly the “sex academy” structure, in which characters attend some sort of institution with the intent of being trained in sexual practices (through experience, of course). I read an erotica recently that involved a month-long sex/fantasy challenge, which was a lot of fun. I enjoy when folks find creative ways to really pack those sex scenes in there.
KB: What have been some of your favorite erotica lines as well as books?
AW: My memory is too shoddy to give you specific lines, but I do have a soft spot for one of the earliest titles I reviewed, Erotic Stories (Everyman’s Pocket Classics) [by Rowan Pelling]. It’s essentially a collection of the “dirty” parts of classic literature, pulled and compiled for the reader’s pleasure. I also love a lot of the books Cleis Press publishes, particularly their anthologies with niche erotic themes ranging from the relatively conventional — female dominants (dommes), bondage, quickies — to more imaginative twists on classic themes, including lesbian cops, dirty fairytales and joining the “mile high club.” Those are great choices if you’re short on time and love saucy short stories.
KB: You mentioned at the Planned Parenthood meeting that your job tests your faith in humanity on the regular — can you elaborate on that? Is it the fandom, or the pieces themselves?
AW: I don’t really delve into the fandom of published erotica too much — I love fandom communities, but in this case I steer clear so that I can write reviews without feeling influenced by outside opinions. There are a lot of mediocre novels that show up in the erotica genre. I can’t speak on this for certain, but my theory is that some folks think writing sex is somehow “easier,” that one can skimp on technique or overall quality as long as certain parts go where they’re supposed to, literally and figuratively. There seem to be a few really prominent, unshakeable narratives of how love and sex are supposed to happen between men and women, and it’s disappointing to see the same tired tropes recycled by writers. I also see a lot of dubious consent in erotica, which I’m not okay with. Within the realm of play/fantasy, I understand “dubcon” [a term referring to sex that involves dubious consent] as a kink, but when novels are consistently depicting sex scenes in which a partner is overpowered or cajoled into something “until she realizes she likes it,” that doesn’t sit well with me at all. I’ve had to stop reading or listening to certain pieces before due to lack of consent in their sex scenes.
KB: Speaking of fandoms, 50 Shades of Grey helped bring erotica to the mainstream. Do you think that if 50 Shades wasn’t inspired by already popular characters in a very popular book franchise — Twilight fan fiction, to be specific — that it would’ve have gotten the same success that it did?
AW: That’s a great question. I mentioned to you before that I could ponder 50 Shades every day and not get tired of it because its incredible trajectory is such a marvel. I think its online success as fan-fiction definitely played a key role. There was an established audience long before it became an original published work who continued to support the book and spread the word. That’s built-in book buzz! It really changed the game in a number of ways; fan-fiction communities are being mined for promising authors in a way I definitely didn’t foresee. The fact that this is what brought BDSM into mainstream conversation, well…I don’t really understand it. The stars must’ve aligned for this phenomenon, because there is much, much better written BDSM erotica out there that conveys BDSM as a kink and/or lifestyle without equating it to trauma, abuse and an internal sociopathic flaw that is cured by finding the “right” person. Yet 80 percent of the publication materials I receive describe their books in relation to 50 Shades. It’s definitely become the barometer of erotica, for better or for worse.
KB: There is a stereotype of those who read erotica. One example is the lonely, middle-aged housewife. How much truth do these stereotypes hold in real life?
AW: In this case, I must admit I’m not really sure. My inclination is to say that it doesn’t hold much truth, but I’m also a curmudgeon who dislikes stereotypes and pigeonholing in general. Most of the erotica fans I know skew younger, but this could be because I gravitate towards young people like myself who are avid readers with an interest in gender and sexuality studies. Folks from all walks of life read erotica (even if some don’t use that term), but I think 50 Shades became the “acceptable” erotic book. It was okay to be seen with it, so more people — perhaps [including] middle-aged housewives — felt comfortable expressing open interest. I also think there’s a lot of harmful stereotypes surrounding the concept of the “housewife,” anyway, including ideas that she is a sanitized, sexually starved shut-in. Similar stigma holds true for erotica fans. It’s crap, really.
KB: Are men getting into writing erotica, too?
AW: Absolutely! Most of the erotica that gets sent to me depicts heterosexual, monogamous couplings; the writers of those stories are largely women, or appear to have female author names. But I have encountered some male writers. There’s also a good amount of LGBTQ erotica. Authors in those genres tend to be more diverse.
KB: Erotica was taboo for a long time, but in the recent years has been discussed extensively across the media, and perhaps the taboo, scandalous factor of erotica is waning and there’s really nothing “sexy” about it anymore. Is erotica still sexy but people have yet to discover that 50 Shades barely scratched the surface on the genre?
AW: I think that the genre’s increasing recognition could definitely bring along a shift in attitude, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. Yes, shining a spotlight on a taboo can make it less titillating, but it can also make a formerly shameful experience comfortable for a wider audience of people. I’m in support of reducing stigma, and I think opening up a dialogue about erotica ties into a wider conversation about pleasure and sexuality, and what that means for folks today. Not to mention, different things are sexy to different people, and at different times. I’m not sure any genre, erotica or not, is a finite thing that can be completely drained of inspiration, since writing and writers are constantly changing. And, considering the way sexuality is still considered a pretty terrifying concept for a lot of people today, I think we have a long way before that “scandal” factor fades.
KB: Erica Jong’s 1973 Fear of Flying helped change the conversation about women’s sexuality during an especially misogynistic time period where the general public didn’t believe that women enjoyed sex or engaged with sexual fantasies. The narrative is a jab at society at that time, where its protagonist, a married Isadora, sleeps with another man to act on her fantasies. In your readings, have you noticed any contemporary themes about how women are portrayed today, or how they engage with their sexual agency?
AW: I think by its very nature, erotica serves as a commentary on the way people are approaching sexuality in its given time period. The attitudes toward sex (and everything else) in books reflect societal opinions, whether they intend to or not. Again, I receive mostly heterosexual erotica depicting monogamous couplings, so that’s what I feel most comfortable generalizing in this instance. The trends I’ve seen lend themselves to sex positivity, for the most part; women are frank about wanting sex, having sex and discussing sex with their friends. Of course, historical erotica is different; while the social rules around women and sex are more restrictive, by and large the female protagonists are written as explicitly rebelling against these misogynistic ideals. Essentially, many authors are imbuing period figures with modern sensibilities, which can be fun if it’s done well. I see a lot of progressive twists on the old-fashioned “bodice rippers” [a term describing a sexually explicit novel with a historical setting].
On the other hand, I do see frequent depictions of the “modern woman” — young, career-savvy, independent and strong-willed — being possessed, or dominated (sexually and emotionally) by a man, which gives me pause. Submission as a kink, as a lifestyle, I respect, but I see a lot of grey — truly, honestly, no pun intended — area things happening in terms of consent when it comes to characters discovering dominant/submissive dynamics. Some authors seem to think submission simply means being overpowered or coerced without exploring the deeper components of dominant/submissive. It also belies a running false notion that all powerful women really want, or need, is to meet their match in a man who can dominate them. It’s complicated, and I think the danger lies in trying to paint complex stuff like this with broad strokes.
KB: Lastly, there are a lot of subgenres of erotica that appeal to different types of people (i.e. lesbian erotica, dark erotica, erotic dystopia). If you’re new to this genre, where would you start and which authors would you check out?
AW: It really depends on what you’re looking for! I mentioned erotic romance earlier as a blended genre I enjoy — I think it combines the sweet emotional trajectory of romance novels with the explicit sexual nature of erotica. I really like Christina Lauren. They’re a writing duo who nail the “new adult” voice and contemporary attitudes surrounding sex and relationships; they write Young Adult fiction as well. Female friendships are a thriving, integral part of their novels, which sends me over the moon. Plus, the sex is hot! I’d recommend their Wild Seasons series, which centers on a group of girlfriends and the guys they meet after an unforeseen shotgun wedding in Vegas. And speaking of Vegas weddings, Kylie Scott’s Stage Dive is a great series about a band and the ladies that end up rocking their world (sorry, couldn’t resist). Anna Zabo has also written some great M/M [Male/Male] erotica, Takeover and its sequel Just Business being the first that jump to mind. Since I work for a library publication, you know I’m going to advocate checking out your local library, or even checking out some erotica blogs to see what folks are raving about.
Kristina Bustos is a Midwesterner-turned-New Yorker obsessed with pop culture. You can find her writing in The Riveter, Digital Spy and Paste Magazine. Follow her at Twitter and Instagram.
