I learned about sex and all things erotic from books. Always a precocious reader, it was several years before real life caught up. By the time it had, Interview with a Vampire, Exit to Eden and gothic romance had given way to more explicitly erotic works – The Sleeping Beauty Trilogy, The Story of the Eye, The Story of O, Emmanuel, not to mention, quite pivotally, the work of the great Anais Nin, whose diaries introduced me to the psychological power of desire.
These stories were something new, deeply personal narratives that knowingly walked the line between the fragile and profane. They were my first introduction to the relationship between sexuality and the psyche, between sex and the self, and it’s that relationship that I comes back to again and again in my work.
Sex can be joyful or painful, wholesome or filthy, or anything in between. The people involved determine what “kind” of sex is being had, far more than doesthe physical act would alone. The crack of a belt can be the sound of home. Missionary can be an emotional land mine. It all depends on who’s bringing what to the table, or to the bed.
Sex is communication, possibly the most primal form of communication human beings have. This is what fascinates me – how people relate to each other, and themselves, through sex, sexuality and sexual identity. This is why erotica draws me, and where its value and potential lie. In no other literature can we so examine and enjoy the sexual impulses that drive us, many of which we don’t quite understand.