Reading, Writing, and Smut

There was a thread on Absolute Write recently about which you'd give up, if you had to choose between never reading erotic fiction again, or never writing it. One of those purely hypothetical questions, thank God, like those internet polls about if you had to choose between never again having intercourse, or never again receiving oral sex, for the rest of your life.

For me, reading is such a necessary precondition for writing, that my answer was obvious. It's like breathing and eating. Without air, food isn't going to do you much good. So I was shocked by the number of people who said they'd give up reading smut before writing it, and even more shocked by those who said they don't read much original erotic fiction to start with.

To me, it's self-evident that if you're trying to write in a genre, and not reading what else is being done in that genre, you're writing with one hand tied behind your back. Heh. Bondage pun. Like you didn't see that coming.

I read a fair amount of erotic fiction. And let's be honest, after a while much of it does start to sound the same. And I'm not just talking about the tab-A slot-B descriptions and purple prose in the free stuff that's splooged all over various sites on the internet, but quality erotica. Something an editor thought was worth paying for. There are the thinly fleshed out characters, who it seems like we've met a hundred times before, the plot whose main function is providing an excuse for the characters to get it on, and the same old (albeit well written) in-and-out. Been there, done that, reached the climax, and probably never thought about that story again.

Then, every once in a blue moon, I read something made of pure awesomesauce. Something that takes my breath away. Those are the pieces that keep me going, and keep me growing, as a writer. Not just to be able to write the stories that are already in my head, but to be able to write something like that.

Thus endeth today's rant. Read the shit in the genre that you write.