Beyond Heaving Bosoms

by Sarah Wendell

  Consider the one-two-three kick-punch-knee-to-the-groin given to traditional standards of sexuality by the average romance novel:

  I. Women can enjoy sex. Once sexually and emotionally awakened to the masterful fizznuckin’, romance-novel heroines enjoy sex. A Lot.

  II. Women can ask for and initiate sexual congress. Once they’ve started enjoying the nookie, as sexually empowered creatures they can be eager for the action without compunction. In fact, it’s better if the heroine enjoys and pounces on her partner: it makes for clever sex scenes on the stairs.

  III. If she likes it and enjoys it, it’s perfectly acceptable, whatever it is. Women can experiment and explore different sexual options, because no matter what it is, from reverse cowgirl to anal to BDSM to being the cream filling in a man sandwich, if she’s happy, then more power to her, and to the reader.

  Seriously, consider how revolutionary that trifecta of sex bombs is for not only women in the 1970s and ’80s, but women of the current era who are bombarded with hypersexual imagery that capitalizes repeatedly on virgin/whore dichotomy. Romance says, screw that—whatever it is, if the woman enjoys it, and it’s not pushing her into moral ambivalence, it’s perfectly and marvelously okay.

  And speaking of sexual imagery, consider the rape scenes in light of the sexual education in romance. Vivanco examines how romance’s tolerance for rape in the early days sends a completely different message about rape victims and women who are sexually experienced. Whereas outside of the romance genre, women who were knowingly involved in prostitution, or who were raped, were considered “damaged goods”; in a romance novel, particularly some stunningly good ones, such women deserve and earn happy endings:

  Whereas novels such as Tess of the d’Urbervilles tell a woman that, if she’s raped, she’s degraded, the modern romance genre, even with its rather high number of virgin heroines, does, on the whole, assert that a woman who has been raped or otherwise had sex outside marriage is still attractive, is still valuable as a person. Rather than condemning her, it celebrates her as a person.

  Romances are not about sex. They include sex, often, and sometimes frequently. But the sex within a romance makes both elements better. Most important, in a romance, ignorance is not bliss. Sexual experience and enjoyment are bliss. More of it, more bliss, all the better for the heroine and the reader.

  What’s Your Erotica Pen Name?

  What, you don’t necessarily want your mother, your grandfather, and you neighbors to recognize your name on that Poserific cover of two men and a lady doing the what-what in a rushing mountain stream?* Fearful of your work colleagues finding out that you are really the prolific and creative genius behind the hit series saga of the corkscrew penis werebird who has multiple forced partners…in space? Well, sure as yogurt shootin’, honey, you need a pen name.

  While romance is flush with women who write under pseudonyms, erotica is a whole new level of pen name. For some reason, the pseudonyms of erotica writers seem to have a lot of vowels. Their first names are extra more vowel-y for that extra-more-special feminine touch, and their last names can evoke images of WASPy yacht clubs, British houses with hedges, or a verbal combination of staid convention with over-the-top exuberance—which, come to think of it, pretty much sums up the role of erotic romance in the whole genre right there.

  Never one to leave you hanging, the Smart Bitches have your guide to creating your own Erotica Pen Name:

  1. Take your name:

  Sarah

  2. Add 2 e’s, 1 a, and an I, or four vowels of your choosing

  Saeirah

  3. Pair with last name that could conceivably appear on the back of a yacht or on a pastry ingredient brand name, or is simply the plural of a common surname

  Parker, Toll, House, Pillsbury, Arthur, Doyle, Clay, Stephens, Jameses, Claytons, Smiths, Anals.*

  4. Bonus: a middle name, and the choice is obvious. The name of the street where you grew up.

  Hey, why not?

  Sarah thus becomes: Saeirah Reynolds Clay. Now that’s hot.

  ANAL IS THE NEW ORAL: SEXUAL TRENDS AND ADVENTURES IN ROMANCE

  There’s more to erotic romance than “Yar! Here be buttsecks!” Kind of. Because pushing people’s boundaries sexually means pushing the boundary in the narrative sense as well. Erotic romance has also helped challenge some of the heteronormative assumptions about romance in general. Bottom line,* erotica pushes boundaries. Literally and figuratively.

  With the increasing power of erotic romance and its ability to educate the masses, sexual techniques that used to be entirely taboo are now a possible part of even historical romance fiction. Specifically? Buttsecks. What used to qualify as extremely impossibly hot, too hot for network TV and publishing, is making headway into publishing with each new release. Raelene Gorlinsky at Ellora’s Cave told us that “at a writer conference about two years ago, the editor panel was discussing this topic. One of the New York editors said ‘Anal is the new oral.’ That’s an example of how readers have become ‘acclimatized’ to the sex due to the popularity of erotic romances. Oral sex in a romance novel was uncommon and titillating five or six years ago, [and] now it is standard and very vanilla. In fact, anal has been common in e-pubbed erotic romance for quite a while now and is becoming more so in New York print erotic romance; it is no longer at all shocking or considered excessively hot.”

  But anal isn’t the only action that’s crashing the romance sex party: consider these other group-friendly techniques, which Raelene was kind enough to give us details on as she explained how erotic romance has begun to influence the rest of the romance genre. Somewhere, a licentious rake hero at the ICH just passed out from the excitement and anticipation.

  Ménage à trois: The M/F/M tango of body parts is a hot, hot market, and as Raelene Gorlinsky told us, the flood of ménage stories began sometime after 2004. Now readers grab them with both hands, and authors incorporate ménage into their narratives. While a ménage scene in a historical romance or a contemporary line that’s not known for adventurous sexuality might raise more than a few eyebrows, especially among those readers devoted to monogamy between the protagonist pair, no one blinks at the three-person tango in erotic romance.

  Bondage: Consider the possibilities that have already risen within mainstream romance, both historical and contemporary. It was never a big deal to tie a partner to the bedposts; Sarah remembers scenes like that in the early 1990s. Yet now, a heroine might deliberately stock a few toys for such playtime activities that involve some light whipping, teasing, or submission. Raelene Gorlinsky says, “A little playful submission or tying-to-the-bedposts is common in erotic romance now. The heavier ‘lifestyle’ BDSM with strong Master/Slave elements is for many readers considered pushing the envelope of what they feel comfortable with.” We’re not saying that the next historical romance will feature strap-ons and the Regency version of Bend Over Boyfriend, but on both sides of the bed, we expect to see more tying up and tying down. All in the name of good, sexual fun and happy orgasms, of course.

  SPEAKING OF SEX: AN INTERVIEW WITH EMMA HOLLY

  Emma Holly, one of the most recognizable names in erotic romance, has written some books so hot Sarah’s face turned so red while reading one that a fellow commuter asked if she were feeling ill.* One of the auto-buys for fans of the genre, Holly’s books have won a ton of awards from both readers and professional organizations. What’s even cooler about Holly is that her Web site not only discusses her own writing and offers excerpts, but it gives online guides to writing sensual sex scenes with skill and legitimacy so that the most outrageous sexual adventures will ring true.

  Holly’s books embrace sexual activities that some people may not have even imagined, and her plots may allow for happy endings that include more than two people. Strange Attractions, for example, published by Berkley in 2005, follows dropout Charity Wills, who agrees to travel to a reclusive scientist’s home in exchange for an opportunity to attend college, all expenses paid. Once sh
e’s at Mr. Reclusive’s mansion, however, there’s multiple partners, bondage play, sexual games, and a whole mess of sex. And hot men. And a lot of fanning yourself.

  So when we started working on a discussion of sex in the romance novels, we had to ask her some burning (in a good way) questions.

  SMART BITCHES: To what do you attribute the growth of erotic romance?

  EMMA HOLLY: I have a theory—which may be entirely bogus—that Republican administrations are good for the popularity of steamy stuff. Rightly or wrongly, citizens expect to have their wilder side infringed upon. Buying erotic romance could be considered the average Josephine’s quiet rebellion.

  If that seems too ridiculous, perhaps the trend has simply gathered sufficient momentum to keep going.

  SMART BITCHES: Did you ever encounter any opposition to the sexual content you wrote?

  HOLLY: I wouldn’t say anyone’s reaction has risen to the level of opposition. Occasionally people are uncomfortable with what I write. I’m sure some authors would be happier if the erotic branch of the romance tree could simply be lopped off. I understand their fears. They think the explicit nature of what authors like myself write lessens their chance of getting the respect they crave from the world at large. The problem is, the only respect that ever matters is the kind you give yourself. The moment you give anyone else the right to say whether what you do is worthy, you’re up the creek.

  SMART BITCHES: Does being an erotic romance author in our culture mean that you are doubly protective of your private life? Romance authors face all sorts of doofy questions about research; do even more prurient assumptions ever plague you?

  HOLLY: I’m naturally a very reserved person, so I suspect I’d be protective of my private life no matter what I wrote.

  Sometimes readers seem to assume I’m living a life of constant sexual adventure—which is flattering, I suppose. More often, they offer a little TMI about their own sex lives, as if—given what I write—I couldn’t possibly be shocked by them!

  SMART BITCHES: Do you ever feel that what you write is subversive and powerful?

  HOLLY: There was a sense that the writers who were helping to mainstream both erotica and erotic romance were pioneers. To depict sex as a positive activity, especially a positive activity for women, felt new. Naturally, we were standing on the shoulders of authors who’d plowed the ground before us, but at the time, I was excited to be even a little part of the succeeding wave. Today, I feel as if what I write is powerful for more reasons than its sexual content.

  BUT WHAT ABOUT…?

  Yeah, all that sex ed, it’s not all roses and deep-stamened lilies. There’s some sexual what-the-fuck awash in Romancelandia, and it’s time to knock down a few tried-and-true sexual myths routinely populating and propagating in romance.

  We’ve already discussed the hymen, and where it is, and where it is not. But consider the sexual mythology on the whole that is contained within the romance novel. Yes, the sex is usually consensual, and often within the boundaries of a committed relationship. That is awesome, but it doesn’t mean that the following sexual myths need to be dipped in gold and held as the perfect standard of sexual intercourse.

  1. The Simultaneous Orgasm

  COME ON NOW and WE MEAN IT. This has to stop. It’s a rare thing, people! All these authors who presume that sex means both parties come together and then come together? Puh. Leez. They crest together, they fly together, they shatter together, they walk into the gates of paradise together, they do the sweaty tango and dip into the twist of orgasm together. At every moment, their sexual congress is like one of those sweaters that covers the man and woman like they’re conjoined twins, with two neck holes, one sleeve for each person, and ample cotton weave between them for all sorts of second-base action underneath.

  There are not that many simultaneous orgasms in the sexual universe, and to have each and every romance couple embarking on conjoined shattering orgasmic bliss each and every time in each and every book is patently ridiculous.

  Sexually speaking, women are wired differently than men, and that’s a hormonal and biological fact. Many women don’t orgasm without direct clitoral stimulation, and find penetration to be a distant second in preference to actual strumming of the nubbin flower.

  Which leads us to the second sexual romance myth. Many a romance sex scene will feature the hero reaching down to stroke her in a most sensitive spot in the midst of missionary position coitus:

  2. Human Males Do Not Have Impossibly Flexible Arms

  So the hero and heroine are going at it like a roof on a hot-tin pussy, and he’s breached the velvet boundaries of her deep cinnabar cave. To put it bluntly, they’re fuckin’ away. And somehow he reaches between their sliding, pounding bodies to find and stroke her clitoris in just the perfect amount of deft pressure that BAM she flies into a shattering, mind-numbing moon-swallowing orgasm with one flick of his finger.

  WHO ARE YOU KIDDING!? For one thing, who can reach like that with their arms without encountering massive rotator-cuff injury or at the least a good amount of shoulder strain? And for another thing, how does he curl his fingers around to stroke the magic button? It would seem to require his elbow be pressed against his rib cage but his arm held straight down without bending, plus full mobility to his fingers in an area that’s a bit crowded at present, all while they are humping away in perfectly toned ecstasy. Apparently all heroes are double jointed in their fingers, shoulders, and elbows, and no heroine would even think to be startled by a muscular arm nudging its way down to her cavern of happiness.

  3. Penetration Does Not Yield Instant Orgasm

  This is marginally related to the first and the second, but as we said, women often like clitoral action as a path to orgasm. The number of romances that feature the heroine mounted on this manly manpole and two seconds later finding the golden fields of orgasm is a disservice to anyone who has had sex with a man who couldn’t find a clitoris if it introduced itself.

  4. Loss of Virginity Doesn’t Always

  Involve Pain or Copious Bleeding

  Yes, there are stories of women with incredibly forthright and blood-rich hymens who, upon losing their virginity, really did bleed all over the bloody place. And there are certainly women for whom their first sexual experience was painful, though not necessarily because of the hymen of impassable fortress-strength steel. It might have been because first sex can be nervous sex and nervous sex is not well lubricated sex and thus can be chafing sex.

  But for most women, the savage shrieking of pain at the loss of her hymen? Never happens. It might sting or stretch a little, but come on. The pounding on his back? The screaming and kicking? The tears and the sobbing? Not the most normal first experience for most people. Maybe she hits her knee on the gear shift and it throbs a bit, but the tearing, horrible pain? And the stains everywhere that proclaim Avast! Virginity, It Hath Been Lost?

  Doesn’t happen. Quit scaring the virgins, all you romance authors.

  5. Give Mortal Men a Moment to Rest. But Not Romance Heroes!

  The ICH particularly hates this one, as all these superhuman romance heroes are a disservice to the men of the world. The mullets, the muscles, the manhoods, they arch over the heroines, they groan out their orgasms, they collapse in sweaty, panting heaps on top of the heroines.

  And in 5…4…3…2…1…

  They’re hard and randy and ready to go one more time! Faster than an Olympic gold medalist sprinter can haul ass down a hundred meters, the romance hero is hard and eager for more action. What the almighty freaking shit is that about?! Unless the man is seventeen years old, THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN. There is a concept of recovery time that never really affects the romance hero, and thus casts mortal men with normal turgid boners in a shameful light, because immediately after having a great orgasm, real men need at least a half hour before they can think about going another round.

  And of course, she is, too. No chafing, no sensitivity, no sense of, “Dude, are you kidding me?” Oh no,
it’s boners and natural lube bringing another set of simultaneous orgasms to the reader’s eager eyes. There is some weight and validity to the accusations that romance novels are really overblown sexual fantasies. This particular sexual myth is nothing but overblown fantasy. Real men wish they could achieve sexual reboot in such record time.

  But fantasy, mythology, or reality, romance novels are one of the very few genres that examine sex for its own sake, and explain it often in marvelously precise detail. So while some readers embrace the sexual education inherent in romance novels, and others decry it as perversity, or sexual miseducation, the root of the turgid truth is simple: romances are about intimacy. Intimacy often includes sex.

  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

  Chapter Phallus

  THE COVERS, AND THE REASONS TO SNARK THEM

  One of the most popular features of our site is the Cover Snark. Who’d have thought that a weekly gallery of the worst of the worst romance-novel covers would attract such a giddy audience eager for snark and deplorable art? Then again, the Internet exists for three reasons, and the third is to make fun of anything that’s not nailed down (the first two being porn and pictures of cats or dogs, captions optional). Even though the Web and print differ greatly in terms of what we can do with illustrations we didn’t draw, we can’t miss the opportunity to talk covers, and Cover Snark.

  Paperback romance covers are the gift wrapping on the erect package that is your average romance novel, and that gift is really meant for the people who see you reading the book in the first place. Romance-novel covers are likely 65.9 percent of the reason romance novels take the mockage from the rest of the known world so damn hard. The cover images leave ample room for it. It’s not hard to abjectly dismiss a genre when much of it is adorned with mullet-sporting heroes grasping at buxom, open-mouthed heroines, both of whom appear to be caught in a wind storm. Sometimes the couple featured on the cover look as if they’re in pain more than any degree of passion, and can appear as if they have some voraciously hungry skin disease, or, in the case of Poser art, as if they are deceased as of many moons ago. It’s frankly difficult sometimes to defend a love of romance novels when those novels are wrapped up in the visual assault that is some cover art.