Writing sex scenes – Why all the fuss?

As I embarked on a new project, I’ve had to confront a few demons. Not all of them mine. How far should I go in incorporating sex scenes to be faithful to my vision of where the story needs to go? Will sexing-up my novel turn me into a pariah, destined to be shunned by friends and relatives? I’ve written about sex before, but my next novel is planned to be a step more graphic. Yet even turning up the heat factor by one setting poses problems.

Doing research on erotic romance, and on the authors who write it, I came across an interesting survey.

The Fussy Librarian survey

Demographics

In May 2014, the Fussy Librarian, an ebook recommendation website, asked 103 authors of erotic romance novels a bunch of questions. Some of the results were predictable, notably their gender (94% female, predominant age group: 24-54 years, 89% heterosexual). The husbands/wives/partners of most of the authors questioned here, and in 69% of cases their mothers, are fully aware of what’s going on on their computers. Their fathers? Well, daddys and daughters. Only 53% of authors had shared their chosen genre with their fathers.

I get that. But did their parents actually read any of their erotic novels? A surprising 42% did.

Meet the authors

So, who are these people who write erotica? Turns out, they are people like you and me. The average age they lost their virginity and the number of times they have sex in a month match the average American (as per a survey carried out by the Kinsey Institute). And 45% of our authors had sex on a first date. At this point, it should be noted that in a Singles in America survey, 2012, the average among all singles, male and female is 44%, but an earlier 2004 ABC News survey discovered only 17% of women had sex on a first date. Still, the 44% mentioned in the Singles in America survey presumably had sex with a partner, right?

Secret layers?

Are erotic romance authors kinkier than the average American? It would certainly appear so. According to the Kinsey Institute, less than 20% of Americans had participated in BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism), but a whopping 41% of our authors had given it a go. Most of them (84%) had had sex outdoors (average according to an ABC news poll in 2004 was 54%). Sex in the office, anyone? 41% of our authors screamed ‘yes,’ compared to only 7% according to the ABC News poll.

Erotic romance authors also appear to have had more sexual partners than the average American, although the rate of infidelity among those surveyed was notably lower.

What does it all mean?

These are stats. They’re interesting, for sure, but what can we glean from the numbers? Perhaps I’m completely off-base, but we should not forget who we’re talking about. These erotic romance authors write about sex every day. They make money treating intimacy like the natural and desirable thing it is. When they admit to having attempted BDSM or sex in unusual places, I can see no reason they should feel shy about admitting it in a survey (especially not if it’s just a few ticks on a piece of paper). Ask the average person, not everyone is going to be so forthright. Even if they’re promised anonymity.

My guess is the number among erotic romance authors may indeed be slightly higher, although not as high as the figures suggest. Either way, these authors take their writing seriously. They will not giggle at the mention of sex and are bound to be curious about the techniques and locations they write about.

Why did I share these stats with you?

I have the highest respect for authors of erotic novels. My tastes don’t run into the exotic, but I respect authors who push boundaries. My next book, Guarded, is my raunchiest book yet. A mere three sex scenes, but more graphic than anything I’ve attempted before. And already the panic has set in. Should I get a super-secret pen name so none of my friends will know that the intimate details I describe were conjured in my brain? The other day I mentioned the steamier nature of the book to a friend of mine, who assured me that if I went ahead, she would never be able to look at me the same way.

I fear she won’t be alone. Telling my parents? When pigs fly.

Is this the year 2014? I’m tempted to bury my book forever, yet a tiny, rebellious part of me is tired of this hypocrisy. If my characters engage in sex, is this somehow equal to posting a video of me in the act on the Internet? Am I suddenly a bad person? By the same logic, what does it say about me if my character kills one of her enemies? The hang-up is my friend’s, but it’s a hang-up that will affect me all the same.

Does anyone have advice for a writer who wishes to nudge the envelope just a tad? How did you cope with the stigma?

Thank you.