I know this writer who has penned a few novels and short stories – all of them considered “literary works” with the exception of one that could pass for a bit of fantasy and romance. She sits in her space and tippity taps away — the words come easy to her, though plots do not. Her stories make people cry and think and wonder and wander. She has a pretty nice following of readers who love her work.
But anyone “in the business” knows that “Literary-type” writers have a harder time finding a huge audience. And while writers who pen these kinds of works love their readers and audience, there comes a time when the rubber has to meet the road and bills must be paid. Perhaps something changed in the writer’s life–perhaps two incomes become one, or something catastrophic happens, or the moon swallows the sun and all hell breaks loose–doesn’t matter; there comes a time where if the writer didn’t worry so much about how much money her work made, before, she or he may at some point certainly have to worry about it sooner or later.
There are genres of writing out there that seem to entice readers to them: romance, erotica, erotic-romance. Hmmmm, thinks the writer–that erotic stuff sounds “easier” to write than romance–for romance requires Plot and Rules, whereas it seems erotica/erotic romance is all over the place–kind of experimental. How darist the literary writer do such a thing? Could she? Would she? Should she? What would her readers think? Her family? Her friends? Her MOM!
And one day, the writer sat down in her space and spewed out new kinds of words – words that normally she’d laugh at or cringe a little at or blush at: C words and P words and T words and A words. And the sexual explicitness of her words made her go “Well, damn . . . .” But on she wrote, inserting a little plot, a little narrative, in between all that sex: beasty men and girl on girl and slipping through the back door and bodily emissions flying. This writer just tipped the iceberg of what is out there in erotica writing, for in doing some research, she found some pretty disgusting and way more explicitly disturbing works, but, for the literary writer of beautiful books, this was completely new and completely explicit.
And it excited her, too. Even while making her want to hide her identity. And will I reveal her identity? That’s for you to find out and figure out, if you haven’t already. For keeping her identity in the shadows allows her to explore that darker deeper side of sexuality. It makes her feel she’s gone rogue. It feels scary and delicious all at the same time. The words she had a hard time saying, the explicit situations that made her laugh, or blush a little, suddenly come (so to speak) easier and easier.
One down, she says, and how many more to go?
Meet Tasha Wolfe. A literary writer’s Rogue Alter-Ego. She won’t reveal her identity straight out. For she likes to remain in the shadows, so she can write with explicit glee, or embarrassed glee, or something in between. And she’ll never tell her mother. And certain friends. And certain colleagues. And she’ll think, “This is for the bills. This is so I can keep writing the literary stuff. This is so I don’t lose my house.” But a darker baser side of her thinks, “This is exciting and exhilarating. This is unexpected . . . .”
She started small, with a little novella-ette – something to be read quickly. Something that can be written quickly. Something that is quick. Seduction Cove: In a hidden cove in a secret magic forest, a seductive sorceress weaves blood and fantasy into tantric orgasmic sex. Sorceress Serena seduces sex-starved women to her magical cove, where with a vial of their blood, and knowledge of their deepest fantasies, she creates for them their perfect lover – for a price. But when Serena’s darker thoughts take over, she chooses a client who asks for part man, part beast. Serena’s ancestors howl against it, but she seeks to punish a soul in her soul garden – for his arrogance, he will become her experiment for this lusty client. Things don’t go quite as Serena wants them to, and she then must face her own desires.
And this writer nods her head at Tasha, for really, everyone does just what they want and need to do and that’s how it should be. Right? Right. And sex sells. Sex really really sells. And it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s more than the money . . . it’s something wilder and darker and exciting . . . .
Sometimes writers go rogue. Sometimes you never even know when they do this – the writers who pen lovely beautiful books, and in the dark of night pen something so very much different. Some do it proudly and some do it stealthy and some do it somewhere in between.