The War on Smut (aka why I’m a feminist)

Alright, alright fine. I’ll address the elephant in the room. Let’s talk about smut.

What is smut? Well, it depends on who you ask. Smut, spice, citrus scale, explicit, porn, erotica, devil’s tango- smut goes by many names, and not all of them are uttered with love. As a matter of fact, ‘smut’ itself was largely a derogatory term before modern-day smut writers and readers alike decided to reclaim the word. And boy, am I glad they did.

I haven’t been the most vocal about my writing for a long time, but I’ve never gone out of my way to hide it either. Since circa 2009, I’ve been a smut writer. My fanfiction accounts are evidence enough of my style, and a quick glance through my kindle library will reveal smut littered through my reading habits with equal frequency.

As a more personal gripe, people often give me the look when they find out what I like to read/write. Not just because it’s gasp scandalous, but because I’m openly asexual. Look, I can’t explain it any more than I can explain why my favourite colour is purple. I like what I like, and I write what I’m good at (nice).

But let’s shift gears away from me a little bit.

Smut gets a bad reputation in much the same way that fanfiction does (see my last blog post for more information on that debacle). The general public doesn’t like to talk about sex. It’s private, hidden, almost shameful. It’s uncomfortable to talk about, see, read, or write, so we’re told to keep it a secret. Don’t talk about it. Don’t admit to reading it. Don’t admit to writing it. Don’t-

Oh, wait. That only applies to sex marketed to women.

Hold on! Wait! Don’t panic click away because I’m bringing gender into this. I swear it’s relevant. Trust me.

There is some debate about whether the female gaze exists in media. There’s a lot of talk about the male gaze, and how mainstream media caters to it almost exclusively, but the female gaze is either nonexistent or ignored. If you think about it, you don’t have to work very hard to realize that this is true. Sex in the media is portrayed as scantily clad women or overly buff men playing into a power fantasy. That’s not what most feminine presenting audiences want to see, which is evident by the box office statistics at the latest The Fast and the Furious release. Most porn is tailored to men, with websites having specific subsections for porn targeted at women. Pornographic magazines, like Playboy, are also for men. Even music, when it’s about sex, is frequently sung by or written by, you guessed it, men.

Let’s see… so, that’s movies, porn, ads, music, and magazines all marketing sex to men. What’s left for women?

Books. AKA: smut.

And how are books about sex (erotica, smut, whatever term you’d like to use) often received? They’re not. Because we’re told not to talk about them.

I’m really not the most qualified person to talk about how women’s sexuality has been butchered and demonized by society over the last however many years, so I won’t try to talk about something I’m not fully educated on. You’ll have to look elsewhere t find out how this society-wide suppression started and is continued today. I am exceedingly familiar with this particular niche of women’s sexuality though, so buckle up.

If you pay attention in most literary circles, book clubs, reading groups, etc., smut is viewed as a lesser genre of literature. All genres that speak largely to women- YA, romance, erotica- are looked down on by the reading community, which is both frustrating and a real shame. Hailing back to my post on gatekeeping, these are the genres that will get you an eye roll and an accusation of not being a “real reader/writer”, whatever that means. Erotica and romance in particular are ridiculed so often that most people hide their interest in the genres. Even me.

It’s only been recent that I’ve stopped giving a fuck about what people think, and let me tell you. It’s so liberating. Yes, I write smut. And I’m good at it. Yes, I read smut. And it’s entertaining as hell. It’s nice to have something you can just turn your brain off and enjoy, which isn’t something I get to do very often. As much as I love reading in general, it’s still work in a lot of ways. Reading smut though? No work, just swoon-worthy romance, fun characters, and occasional hilarity.

And, since I know some of you are wondering (nosy lil’ snots, aren’t you?), no. As an ace person, smut isn’t a sexual thing for me. I just enjoy it. But who cares if it is? I’m not going to judge someone for how they get their rocks off. And neither should you.

Writing smut (good smut) is a skill, just like any other form of writing. That’s why it’s so frustrating for smut writers (like me) to see the genre dismissed so readily all the time. There’s an artform to crafting a good sex scene, one that’s not cheesy or ridiculous or cringe-worthy, and not everyone can do it. I mean, I can, but I’ve spent upwards of ten years developing my abilities. Just don’t read my earlier stuff (talk about cringe, but hey, even I had to start somewhere).

As with all of my posts about specific topics like this, I’m not telling you that you have to like smut. You don’t. You don’t even have to give it a chance if that’s not your thing. No judgment. But that’s my point exactly: No. Judgment. It would be lovely if we lived in a world where everyone would simply respect other people’s interests and hobbies, and recognize that just because you don’t enjoy something doesn’t make it any lesser than the things you do enjoy. Respect the sex, people.

Maybe one of these days I’ll write a post that I won’t be praying my parents don’t see. For now, I hope I’ve given you some food for thought. If you’ve ever been curious about smut, I urge you to give it a try. Seriously. You might just find your new favourite genre! Just don’t be that person that messages me and asks me to write weirdly specific smut just for you. Don’t make it weird.

(Yes, that has happened. No, I won’t do it. Seriously. Don’t ask.)