|Hipster Kitty read erotica before it was cool.|
Reading something sexy has helped me out of a dry spell more than once. You know that old saw about the brain being the most important sex organ? Well, I guess it's true because there have been many times at the end of a long day that I'm brain-dead and suffering from the over-touching of my wonderful children and the last thing I can possibly consider is having sex.
Then I read something sexy and, though I haven't slept or spent a week at a luxury spa where no one touches me unless I pay a ridiculous amount of money, voila! My brain has been reset and sex is suddenly more than a possibility. It's happening.
I'm excited about this post because I get to do something I've never done before. I get to say that I did something before it was cool.
Romance literature has been a part of my personal library since I was in middle school. I devoured the Sweet Valley High series because it felt so delicious to read books that were on the Black List for book reports at school. If teachers don't allow it and my mom thinks it's trashy, it must be good, sez PreTeen Me.
Some time in 7th or 8th grade, my family took a trip to Florida to visit my great aunt Margaret. She was one of those beautiful grande dames who took hours to "put on her face" each morning before we could leave the house to actually do anything. Obviously I poked around in all her drawers and closets during the wait. I struck gold one morning when I pulled down a box overflowing with romance novels. I opened up the first, a western, read a few pages and was hooked. From then on, I turned to Romance Lit when I needed a light read; it worked like a palate cleanser from the books I read for school.
When I first heard all the orgasmic rapture over Fifty Shades of Grey, I went on amazon to read the reviews. The critical reviews convinced me to skip it, or wait till the Kindle price dropped below $2.00. Plus, there's something really condescending about the phrase "Mommy Porn," which is how I always heard it described. Then I read this review from Jen at People I Want to Punch in the Throat (Check out her blog. She's hilarious). Twilight FanFic? So not interested. Tampons? Even less. Interior monologue with Inner Goddess? Oh, hell no. But, this silly book is apparently causing many women to reignite the bedroom flames with their husbands or significant others, which is a good thing.
My point in dismissing Fifty Shades of Grey is that Romance/Erotica/Sexy reads have always been out there. Check out the Song of Songs, for pete's sake:
I went down into the garden of nuts
|From 50 Shades of Suck|