Fifty Shades of What?

For the most part, people think I am fabulous, unless of course we are debating E.L. James and ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ phenomenon.  Don’t mistake me, I am not a prude; it isn’t the blindfold that offends me, I’ve been there and quite enjoyed the .. ahem .. outcome.  This trilogy that has decorated bedrooms, heated up book-clubs, discussed fervently on mommy-blogs and topped best-seller lists, is a bit of a conundrum.  Granted, it has people excited (pun intended) about reading and even I can’t balk at that and by several accounts, it has magically saved marriages and spiced up amorous relations but as much of a fan as I am of all of those elements, I cannot get beyond bad writing and unrealistic dialogue.  The reality is, sex sells and James’ books, that started as cheesy Twilight fan fiction and developed into Fifty Shades of Grey, landed a woman serving mid-life crisis antics through erotic musings on Time’s annual list of ‘The 100 Most Influential People’.  Really?  All it takes is writing down your dirtiest Team Edward inspired fantasies under the guise ‘Snowqueen Icedragon’ on a fan fiction site, changing the names and details and becoming a literary success overnight?  Erika Leonard James struck gold and good for her.  No writer needs to be poised to dismantle another’s success it’s just that it’s hard to imagine knowing there are so many talented, unpublished authors who work their fingers to the bone writing manuscript after manuscript in the hopes of achieving literary success and a slice of mommy porn fan fiction is what makes the grade.  Astounding in my humble opinion.

I have read several volumes of titillating erotica over the years with goose-bump inducing effects and language that’ll make you slide off of your chair.  Those pages worked for me because they were carefully crafted and well written without ever having to refer to anyone’s ‘lip biting inner goddess’.  Maybe I’m a snob but I prefer a little intelligence in my erotica, even perhaps a little poetry.  Double entendres go a long way in erotica, verbal foreplay and blocks in which to build sexual tension.  That’s what mama like.

Writing erotic fiction is not my strong suit.  I have attempted it in the past a few times, once just for fun and another for the sole purpose of arousing a partner.  It was a challenging exercise to try and not make it cliché or a collection of filthy four letter words.  I will admit, there were filthy four letter words involved in the piece but I worked really hard (pun again intended) to at least try to create an atmosphere steeped in the emotional desire I possessed for my lover.  The pages are long lost now but I wish I still had it so that I could see how I scored now in the light of James’ success. 

Did I mention before that the first time I was ever published it was in a local erotica poetry journal called ‘Desiderata’?  I was young, a teenager.  I discovered the journal at a local bookstore.  I read the submission guidelines and sent in my poem.  They accepted and I was thrilled!  I’d been working so hard, sending away work and query letters and getting rejection letters back faster than I could read them.  It was a welcome reward, to have my work received with excitement.  At that time, I was also eager to prove, especially to my father, I was serious about writing and how much I wanted to pursue it.  It was impossible for him to support my creative pursuits, when I’d talk about it he was always quick to dismiss it in favor of talk about more practical paths.  His insistence never did pull the pen out of my hand and when I received my free copies of the journal and my whopping $2 I made my poor Dad blush brighter than a tomato when he read my first published poem with the whole family present.  I felt validated and proud of myself for being so rebellious and for showing him I was indeed capable of this writing thing. (Side-note: I was actually paid $10 for my poem but I bought a subscription of the journal – I framed the $2 bill with a copy of the cheque and it sits on my writing desk to this day.)

So yes, not a big fan of the ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ thing.  And Ann Rice's Sleeping Beauty trilogy is FAR superior if you're into that sort of stuff.  I read it ages ago.  I won’t be devouring the books like so many of my friends and family members have.  My impression is not sight unseen.  I did peek at the pages when I saw the first volume stationed on my friend’s coffee table.  The excerpt I read didn’t impress me, cementing my opinion.  I am on the nay-sayer’s side of the debate.  And like I said, I’m happy people are reading and saving their relationships and all that jazz, good on them, I just don’t buy into the hype.  I am curious though how the former TV exec will follow up her current success.  A trilogy loosely based on ‘The Avengers’ fan fiction?  I’d be ok with a human Thor and Iron Man sandwich.  Menage a YUM.

The following poem won’t catapult me into international fame, land me on any prestigious lists or have the boys breaking down my door but it’s original work:

Bedland Avenue

your palm pressing against the skin of my bare back, tactile

pulling me closer and closer to you, Champion of Flesh

breath quickens

cheeks flush

your gentle man fingers crossing the soft equator of my voluptuous centre

edging me closer and closer to something I will never be able to describe

muscles tighten

world releases

Bedland Avenue

the shape of you in the sheets

the smell of you in my hair

the size of you inside

you rolling yourself over flat on your back to allow me to climb new heights

push in the coin

open the curtains

cue the music

suspend

**

Cold shower time?  Maybe.  Whatever shade of grey you prefer, it’s sexy time.

In propinquity,

Nic